


Has the Ocean Lost Its Way

by FullOnLarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Surfers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Australia, Bartender Niall, Complete, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Minor Injuries, Photographer Harry, Smut, Surfer Liam, Surfer Louis, but everyone's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie
Summary: Louis and Liam are professional surfers who have been traveling the world together for years. Now they travel with Liam’s pro-surfer girlfriend Amelia and their baby Vivian. They’re in Manly Beach, Sydney to compete in the 2017 Australia Open of Surfing when Louis meets Harry, a freelance surf photographer working for Surfer Magazine.Louis wonders if his nomadic lifestyle will keep him single indefinitely or if there’s someone out there who’ll fit in with his little makeshift family.





	Has the Ocean Lost Its Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DuchessKitty16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuchessKitty16/gifts).



> DuchessKitty16 I loved your prompt and had so much fun writing this fic. I hope you like it! 
> 
> Thank you to the Summer Exchange mods for doing an excellent job running this. It's been a great experience❤️
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, the always wonderful [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/)! My awesome Brit picker, the lovely [KK](http://dinosaursmate.tumblr.com/)! And my Aussie picker, [Katie](http://justafatbirdonaboat.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> Thank you so much to [Silvia](http://melmanpur.tumblr.com) for the amazing surfer Louis manip. I love it so much!❤️
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3, and send me a link so that I can include it in the author’s notes.**
> 
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**

«»

“Thanks, boys, but I’ve got it.” Amelia smiles and takes the handle of her board bag from Louis, who rolls his eyes at her back as she walks away. He turns to look for his board over the shoulder of the guy behind the oversized luggage desk.

All of his clothes are stuffed into an extra-large backpack that he carries onto the plane, but his surfboards and skateboard have to fly in the hold with the rest of the oversized luggage. Baggage claim is the same every single time. His stomach is in knots. He chews his lips until they almost bleed and bounces on his toes, waiting what feels like hours for his boards to arrive. When they finally show up, Louis decides he’ll have to replace the bag next season. It’s battered and clearly seen better days. The attendant yawns, stands up from his chair, and ambles over to the conveyor belt to pick up the bag. Louis tries not to act impatient and thanks the guy profusely for being gentle with his boards.

Liam and Amelia are waiting for him in the far corner on one of the few benches, their bags having arrived a good ten minutes ago. At least V is quiet. The flight had been tough for her. They sometimes are, even though she's a travel veteran at this point in her young life. 

Louis joins them, drops his backpack to the ground beside his feet, and gingerly sets his board bag on the floor next to Amelia’s feet, squats down, and unzips it to inspect his boards. He holds his breath when he peers inside. He won’t be satisfied until he sees every inch of them. 

A chuckle comes from a few feet away and Louis looks up to scowl at Liam, then carefully slides the fabric of the bag down and unbuckles the straps that secure the boards together. He runs his hands down the rails on both sides of his favorite board, up to the nose that's wrapped up in his jeans and duct tape, then back down to the tail. No damage. At least, not that he can tell from his cursory inspection. He checks his other surfboard and his skateboard, and when he finds nothing wrong, he zips them back into the bag, unwraps the long strap, and lifts it over his head to his opposite shoulder. He bends to grab his backpack and swings it onto his back, sliding it over both arms. 

Louis looks up to find three pairs of eyes staring at him. He sticks his tongue out at Liam, smiles and winks at Amelia, and leans down to plant a loud, smacking kiss on V’s chubby cheek. 

“Let’s go then,” Louis says and offers a hand to Amelia, helping her up off the bench. “And I don’t care what you say, I know you can do it yourself, but Liam can carry your boards. You’re carrying a baby for fuck’s sake.”

“Shh.” Amelia swats his arm. “You know she’s starting to pick up words. And no, the whole point of this thing,” she says as she gestures to the rainbow-striped baby carrier strapping the baby to her chest, “is that I have my hands free.” She drops a quick kiss to V’s head and slips her backpack onto her shoulders. “Liam can carry the nappy bag and the car seat though.” 

Liam picks up the baby’s bag and adds it to his haul: surfboard bag across his body on one shoulder, nappy bag across his body on the other, backpack on his back, car seat hanging from one hand. They walk out of the Sydney Airport to find a cab. The sun is blinding compared to the lighting inside the airport, and all three of them stop to put on sunglasses. Liam fishes around inside the nappy bag and pulls a little sunhat from one of the pockets and hands it to Amelia who fastens it under a drool covered chin. Three or four chins, maybe.

“It’s really like time travel,” Louis says to Liam, like he hasn’t said the same exact thing the last two times they’ve flown from Oahu to Sydney. “Eleven hours on a plane and we’re more than thirty hours into the future. It’s a mind fuck.”

“Imagine going the other way. Leave on Tuesday and arrive on Monday,” Liam replies, like he hasn’t responded almost the same way every other time. They find a minivan taxicab and Liam pulls open the back so they can toss their backpacks inside. He calls across the back seat, “Are we taking the cab the whole way or what?”

From inside the van, Louis hears Amelia humming while she straps the baby into the car seat and the car seat into the van. “The cab. Too much loading and unloading with the ferry. It’s such a tourist thing, Li.” 

Louis and Liam strap the board bags to the roof rack with their collection of bungee cords and lengths of rope. When the boards are secure, Liam slides into the middle row of seats beside the baby and Amelia, leaving Louis the entire back seat. 

While he’s stretched out across the bench seat, he thinks about the last time he visited Sydney, just after V was born, and every other time he’s flown in for the Australian Open of Surfing. There’s really no purpose for his visit this time, other than to cheer on his friends in the competition. It’s not as if he’ll be out there with them.

It’s not too long of a drive, an hour maybe, and they’re climbing back out again, in the driveway of Amelia’s parents’ beach cottage. Louis and Liam heft all of the bags onto their shoulders and backs, because Amelia is carrying a car seat full of sleeping baby. 

«» 

Louis leans his forearms on the porch railing, and his half-empty beer bottle dangles from his fingertips while he listens to Amelia’s dad talk about the ocean. The first time he went to the beach in California with the kids from his host family, Louis noticed the way that people who grew up around salt water and waves talk about the ocean. They speak of it with such ease. People who grow up at the beach see the ocean as a part of who they are. It’s natural, it’s understood, it’s as if the ebb and flow of the tides are somehow connected to the circulation of blood in their veins. 

It took Louis a year of waking up before the sun, floating on a surfboard in the Pacific with the rest of what he learned was known as ‘the dawn patrol,’ trying and failing to catch waves and then trying again, until he thought _maybe_ he could feel it too.

He’s not sure how many years later he became certain, but it’s there now—a rhythmic thrumming, like a secondary pulse under his skin. 

Louis’ mind is still seven years in the past in California, but he drifts back in and catches the thread of the conversation as Liam says, “...almost two hundred people, and that’s just surfers.” 

From where he’s standing, elbows propping him up on the railing, Louis joins in without turning around. “About two hundred-fifty with skaters and BMX, plus however many people come just to watch. And the concerts. Two days of that. It’s going to be...a lot.” 

He knows he’s probably hiding his jealousy and disappointment and anger at the entire situation well. He should be thrilled right now. He should be celebrating his second place win in Oahu, but all that matters is that the points he earned weren’t enough to get him into the Australian Open of Surfing. The biggest competition of the year and he’s missing out. 

Liam and Amelia are both surfing in the Open and Louis isn’t. It’s not as if he didn’t try. He’d surfed his arse off in every comp he could get to, trying to earn enough points to qualify for the competition, but he’d fucking missed it. Because of his stupid foot. Which he briefly considers kicking against the corner post of the porch, but then thinks better of it. With his luck, he’d break a toe or fracture the same damn bone he’d broken last year that had ruined his chances at the Open in the first place. 

At least his points had been high enough to register as an alternate. He’d already been planning to come to Australia anyway, so it worked out. Still, he’s probably going to pout about it for a few days. After all, the Open is almost two weeks away; he’ll be fine by the time day one rolls around. 

Louis pops the cap off of another beer and squats down to stretch his legs. Ten hours on a plane have made him stiff and sore. He needs to move, but he’s tired. Time travel is exhausting. 

Amelia’s parents are leaving, so Louis pops back up from his squat, thanks them for letting him stay at the cottage, and hugs them goodbye with a promise to come along to whatever barbecue they’ve been planning while he wasn’t paying attention. They wave one last time, blowing kisses to the baby who chews her fist in response and says her version of _bye,_ then they pedal their bikes down the road toward their house.

Amelia yawns, hefts the baby up on her hip, and announces, “I’m off to put Vivian to bed.”

“V,” Louis says, and tickles her toes. “Tell your mum that she saddled you with an old lady name.” He pokes her little belly button and leans over to blow a raspberry on her bare skin. 

Amelia flicks Louis’ ear and says, “If I didn’t love you, I’d hate you. Probably do hate you a little bit anyway. ’Night, boys.”

“Nah, I’m coming with you.” Liam drops his empty bottle into the recycling bin with a clang. “Sorry. I’m knackered.” 

Louis turns off the porch light, but stays outside and finishes his beer in the dark, enjoying the silence. 

He climbs into bed after a quick shower and falls asleep easily, but sleeps restlessly, dreaming of rough water, wipe outs, and being pulled under waves completely out of control. He wakes up sweating and breathing hard. After punching his pillow, he rolls over to stare at the red numbers on the clock until his eyes close and he sleeps again.

«»

With V strapped to his back, Liam follows Amelia down the path to the beach. Louis brings up the rear, pulling faces and making the baby giggle, repeating his name over and over in the hopes that she’ll say it before she says anything else. She’s already broken his heart by saying _dada_ and _mama_ before saying _Louis._ He’d tried to claim the shrill _ee-ee_ sound that she makes as his name, but Amelia said it doesn’t count since she makes that sound in the bath, in the high chair, and whenever she has a dirty nappy.

While her mum and dad paddle out, Louis sits in the sand with V and builds a sandcastle. Or rather, he fills the pail with sand, packs it down, flips it over, and watches as V smashes it apart with her little fists. Then he does it again. 

With his sunglasses on, he can people watch without anyone noticing, and that's usually what he does at the beach when he’s not surfing. Today though, he watches his friends. The waves are choppy this morning, he’s not even sure why they brought their boards down, except for force of habit.

It’s amazing to him, how lucky Liam and Amelia are, how they managed to find each other and fall in love. Considering their nomadic lifestyle, it’s practically a miracle. They fit well together Louis thinks, the way that they seem to naturally know where the other is in the water, and the way they take turns with everything, not just the waves. They’re both sitting out there on their boards, bobbing along in the shitty surf, and Louis can tell from the shore that they’re smiling.

Watching their relationship develop from the outside has been fascinating. Louis and Liam had traveled together for a few years before they met Amelia. Both of them had been too busy to date anyone. Occasionally, they’d pick someone up in a bar, or hook up with another surfer for a few days at a comp, before saying goodbye with a hug and a shaka and a _see you around._ That’s how things had started out between Liam and Amelia. 

They’d met at a competition in California three years before and had spent close to a year hooking up whenever they surfed the same competitions. Louis was the one who’d started asking Amelia where else she was planning to surf that winter, and Louis was the one who’d suggested to Liam that they might as well just start traveling together, since they were always heading to the same beaches anyway. 

It wasn’t long after that that Louis had woken up early one morning, walked into the bathroom of their shitty motel room, and found Amelia hunched over the toilet, emptying her stomach, a positive pregnancy test balanced on the edge of the sink. 

Things could have gone very differently, and again Louis thinks about love and luck and fate and what’s meant to be, and wonders if those are real, actual, universal forces. Because now he can’t imagine Liam without Amelia, or Amelia without Liam, or any of their lives without V. He wonders if there might be some predetermined future for himself, some person out there just living their life, completely unknown to Louis and completely unaware that, although they haven’t met, the threads of their lives are tangled together. 

Louis scrunches his nose and laughs to himself. He’s never believed in destiny. He tries to remember the last time he felt anything other than primal physical attraction for someone and he can’t recall, then he thinks back the last time he hooked up with someone, and fuck if it wasn’t before V was born almost a year ago. His mind drifts back to his thoughts on free will versus fate, to Greek Mythology, and then to Disney films.

Pro tip: don’t get distracted while playing on the beach with a baby. Louis spits sand out of his mouth and tries to blow it out of his nose. At least his sunglasses protected his eyes. He gently admonishes V, straightens her little sunhat, and builds another sandcastle for her to smash.

A little while later, Louis is lying on his stomach on a towel, peeling an orange. He’s passing segments of it to V, who’s mimicking him, sprawled on her own little towel, chubby feet swinging in the air. A shadow covers him and cool water drips onto his back, making him jump a little. He swings an arm out to try to knock Liam down at the knees. “Arsehole.”

“Shh, Louis, she’s learning words.” Liam laughs and then, more seriously, he says, “She really is. We have to stop swearing around her.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis passes V another orange segment and pushes himself back to sit on his knees. “You guys have plans tonight? Need me to babysit?”

“Amelia’s parents live here, mate. You’ll be lucky if they let you near her when we need a sitter.” Liam drops down into a crouch and snatches a piece of orange from Louis’ hand. “I want to ride the ferry at sunset tonight.”

Louis tilts his head and smiles indulgently. “You’re such a romantic.” 

Liam rolls his eyes and laughs, squinting up at the sky. “Amelia won’t go with me. Says it’s too touristy, like if we wanted to ride the London Eye as soon as we got home.”

“Well, you better wine and dine me then. I’m not a cheap date.”

«»

Two beers and a turkey sandwich that he has to make himself do not equate to wining and dining, but Louis isn’t fussed. They ride bikes down to the dock and wait about ten minutes before they’re able to board the ferry. Once the boat gets up to speed, Louis turns his back to the wind and pulls his hood over his head. It’s been quite warm during the days, but with the sun about to set and the wind at the bow of the boat, Louis is cold, even in long sleeves. Liam laughs at him and says Louis would wear a hoodie in hell. 

“I’m going to ask her to marry me.” Liam almost has to shout to be heard over the sound of the wind. “Think she’ll say yes?”

Louis nods and practically jumps on Liam to hug him in congratulations, but he blames it on the movement of the boat when Liam asks if Louis thinks Amelia will be as excited as he is.

“She’ll say yes, mate. You got a ring?”

Liam shakes his head. “She doesn’t do jewelry. Like, at all. You know that.”

Louis hums and looks out over the water. The sun is just above the horizon, surrounded by what look like brushstrokes of pink and orange and purple, and they stand in silence at the bow of the boat, watching as the sun dips into the ocean and slowly disappears. 

They’re on their bikes on the way back to the house when Liam says, “I thought about hiring someone to take pictures when I do it. Since she won’t want a ring or anything. Thought she might like that.”

“That’s a cool idea. You’ll have to plan it all out though.” Louis hops off his bike and pushes it into the garage behind Liam. “I’ll help.”

«»

Amelia and her mum have taken V out for the day to go shopping for shoes now that she’s starting to learn how to walk. There’s only the one thing on their list, but Louis is sure they’ll be gone all day and return with their arms full of bags. He thinks that’s the real reason that Amelia got that baby carrier. It’s funny because years of traveling and packing everything into a backpack have shrunken Amelia’s wardrobe down to the bare necessities, but V has more clothes than the rest of them combined. 

It’s the Thursday before the Open, they've been in Manly for a little more than a week, and now there are people swarming into town. The skatepark has been built and readied, the stands brought in and set up, and Louis is itching to go down there and fuck around. He’d gone down the night before when Liam and Amelia had been having trouble getting V to sleep, and had stood behind the fencing, wondering if anyone would notice if he snuck in. 

Down the beach from where they’ve been going most days is a little bar, a shack almost, or maybe it’s just designed to look like it could fall down in a strong wind. But they serve booze and good food and it’s always busy. This is the first time they’ve been able to get there this trip, and even though it’s early Thursday afternoon, they don’t have any plans, so they order chips and a couple of beers and decide to get drunk. 

Liam is probably only interested in drinking because he’s nervous about proposing, even though he’s decided to wait until the comp is over to actually do it. 

They’re on their third beer when the barman hops up to sit on top of the bar, leans over, grabs the stool next to Louis, and lifts it with one hand back over behind the bar. He grins and sits down on it, then pours three shots of some kind of whiskey, slides one in front of each of them and lifts the third to his lips. 

“Cheers, mate.” They clink their shot glasses together and throw them back, shivering at the burn and the taste. 

This guy is fucking tall. Possibly taller than anyone Louis has ever met in real life, with dark hair, tan skin, and a lovely smile. Oh, and he’s _built._ Louis’ alcohol-hazy mind lingers over thoughts of flirting and convincing this guy to take him home and fuck him against a wall or something. He’s never done that, been manhandled. It’s not usually his thing, but the fantasy is nice. Louis focuses back in as the bartender says, “Name’s Bressie. You from England then?” 

They nod and slide their empties back across the bar. 

“Irish? Good to meet you, Bressie. I’m Louis.” Louis wipes the condensation from his palms onto his shirt and shakes his hand.

“Liam. Nice to meet you.” Liam smiles and sips his beer. “You live here?”

“Yeah, sort of. My friend’s cousin’s cousin, if that makes sense, is from around here. Helped us both get jobs while we’re here on working holiday visas.” Bressie turns and calls down to the other barman, who’s wiping down a spot on the bartop, “Niall, British lads! Come say hello.”

Bressie hops back onto the bar and pulls another stool over for Niall who eyes it warily, then takes a seat. “You realize we’re supposed to be working, right?” He looks at the empty shot glass in front of Bressie, then extends his hand to introduce himself. 

“You fellas here for the Open?”

Liam answers, “Yes.” At the same time Louis says, “Sort of.” 

All three men turn to Louis. He rolls his eyes. “I’m an alternate, so slim to no chance of me getting in, but I’m here with him.” Louis jerks his head toward Liam. “And his girlfriend. She’s surfing in the comp.”

“Cool, man. I’m surfing in it. And you never know. Last year three guys backed out last minute. You could get in.” Bressie nods toward their beers. “Another?”

Two hours later, it’s still light out, the evening shift has come in to relieve Niall and Bressie, and all four of them are drunk, much more so than they should be at five o’clock. The new bartender—Louis doesn’t know his name, but Niall keeps calling him Niall Three—brings them two large platters overflowing with an assortment of fried seafood. They descend on the food like animals, eating with their hands and washing it down with gulps of beer. 

They’re slightly less drunk thanks to the food, so they toss their money into a pile for Niall Three, say goodbye to Bressie and Niall, and walk back up the beach towards the cottage. 

“I’m fucking tired,” Louis complains as they trudge through the soft sand.

Liam yawns in response. Somehow they manage to make it back to the house before Amelia and V, so Liam heads for the bathroom to take a shower that will sober him enough so that he can help with V’s bedtime routine, and Louis decides that seven o’clock is a perfectly fine time to go to bed for the night. He doesn’t even shower, just passes out on top of the blankets, still in his shorts and t-shirt, with sand on his feet.

His dreams aren’t frightening tonight, they’re weird, still full of water and waves, but it’s like he’s floating with his head half-in and half-out of the water, like some of the alligators he’d seen in Florida. His eyes are almost level with the surface of the ocean and with each gentle wave, his vision shifts from the glinting sunlight on the surface of the sea, to a startlingly clear underwater scene. 

He wakes up just before midnight. He’s cold and his bladder is full of all of the beer he’d had. He gets up, shrugs on his red hoodie, goes to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen to find a glass of water.

The house is dark. Everyone else is asleep, but Louis is wide awake now that he’s slept off the alcohol. He should’ve forced himself to stay awake a few more hours and gone to bed at ten or eleven, because now that he’s awake, he’s not going back to sleep for a while. 

There’s a bag of crisps on the counter, so Louis shoves a handful of them into his mouth, stuffs the bag into the pocket of his hoodie, downs another glass of water, and slips outside in the dark. 

Their skateboards are all propped up on one side of the front door, and their shoes are all in a pile on the other side. Louis slides his feet into his Vans and his skateboard under his arm and quietly walks to the road where he hops on his board and pushes off in the direction of the skatepark. 

When he rolls up, Louis briefly wonders if there’s security on patrol, some old dude standing guard, but once he walks closer he can see that there’s no one around. Louis tosses his board over and scales the six-foot chain link fence. The flood lights are off, and it’s the new moon, so there’s absolutely no natural light, but there are blue security lights around the deck that make everything look a bit eerie and weird. The low placement of the lights causes the ramps and halfpipes to cast long shadows and Louis thinks it looks cool and creepy. He kind of wants to take a picture. Except his phone is a piece of shit and he didn’t bother to bring it with him. 

Louis stands at the far edge of the bowl, one foot on the tail of his skateboard, the other on the concrete, and takes a deep breath. It's been awhile since he’s skated on anything other than the street, but it’s like anything else, he supposes. He drops down into the bowl and when he hits the flat bottom, he pushes hard, heading for the other side. The familiarity relaxes him, even with his blood pumping harder, the tension in his shoulders loosens and his mind eases, and he just skates. Up the other side, an easy 180, then back down. 

Louis loses himself in it. His mind is on nothing but what he’s going to do in the next thirty seconds. It’s different than surfing, but easily as enjoyable. He wonders why he doesn’t skate more often, then remembers. Wheels versus water. Skating is a hobby, surfing is his life. If he had to choose, he’d pick the ocean every time. Louis chose the ocean when he was sixteen, and almost every decision since then has sprung from that choice. 

He’d been bored in Doncaster. About to turn fifteen, annoying as all hell, and his boredom wasn’t helping his grades. Louis’ drama teacher had suggested a year in the States as an exchange student, and as soon as the words entered his brain, he’d latched onto the idea and wouldn’t let it go. He’d brought his grades up, applied for the exchange program, and was accepted. That summer he’d worked his arse off mowing lawns and doing odd jobs to save money to take with him to Santa Cruz, California. 

His host family had been wonderful, and the Pacific won him over as soon as he saw it. The first time he paddled out on a borrowed board, he thought he’d found an awesome new hobby. Twenty minutes later, when he finally caught his first wave and rode it straight into shore, he was in love. When the school year ended and he had to fly back home to Donny, Louis made the decision to come back as soon as possible. And he did, right after he turned seventeen. 

Some of the friends he’d made in California helped him get a job working under the table, so his age didn’t matter. He rented a bed in a shitty two-bedroom apartment that he shared with five other guys, and he worked his arse off six days a week and spent the entirety of the seventh day in the water. A year spent getting up at arse o’clock in the morning to surf with the sunrise, working two minimum wage jobs all day, falling into his lumpy single bed around midnight, and getting up to do it again the next morning, left him exhausted and only slightly less poor than he’d been when he arrived, but he was happy. 

That’s when he’d met Liam. 

Louis pushes off hard and rides up to the lip of the bowl, then back down. It’s easy and familiar and mindless, so he rocks his body back and forth, up and down the sides of the bowl, not really doing anything. He’s starting to feel tired, so he decides he wants to do another 360 before he skates back to the house. 

From the far edge of the pool, he pushes off and skates as hard and as fast as he can. As he approaches the other side, he bends his knees and readies himself, goes up the side of the bowl, and soars up in the air, spins completely around with his hand on the board, then drops back down into the bowl. It’s a rush and Louis laughs at himself, glad that the pros who’ll be there for the skating competition aren’t watching him do basic tricks in their awesome, custom-built bowl. He rides back to the other side where he’d left his keys and crisps, and sits on his board, rolling side to side while he eats.

The sound of the chainlink fence rattling makes Louis’ eyes bug out. Shit. He hops up, grabs his board, and heads in the opposite direction, running crouched over and sticking to the shadowy edge near the stands. 

“Wait.” A deep voice calls out. Fuck. Louis moves faster, looking for a spot where he can climb over. “Hey, wait. I didn’t mean to scare you. Please.”

Against his better judgment, Louis slows to a stop, straightens up, and turns around. Whoever it is, they’re completely covered by shadows and Louis can’t see a fucking thing. If it’s security, he can probably talk his way out of trouble. If it’s a cop, he’s not so sure. Weeks seem to pass while Louis waits for this guy to get close enough for the blue security lights to illuminate his face.

Louis sees the guy’s shirt first. It’s white, so it kind of glows in the blue light, then his face appears, and Louis relaxes a little. He still can’t make out what he looks like, but Louis can tell that he’s smiling, and it’s a friendly sort of smile. The guy steps closer and Louis can finally see him and fuck, he’s gorgeous. Louis has to shut his mouth because damn, it has definitely dropped open, but he doesn’t stop staring. He figures he’s allowed to for the time being. 

The guy’s got dark hair and it’s shaggy and curly, like he’s had it short and recently started growing it out. His white t-shirt is worn and ripped at the hem, his black skinny jeans are rolled up at the ankles, and he’s wearing flip-flops. There’s a bag or something over his shoulder, the strap cutting across his chest. 

“Hey.” He draws out the vowel sound and offers his hand for Louis to shake. “Sorry if I scared you. I’m Harry.”

Louis grips his hand, it’s fucking huge and practically swallows his own. “Okay, um, I’m Louis. Are you… Do you work here?”

“No.” Harry laughs. “No, I was just, um, taking some pictures.” 

“How? It’s like, super dark out. I didn’t see a flash.”

“Oh.” Harry sounds surprised, but he smiles and explains, “I was just messing around, but I reduced the shutter speed, like as far as it goes, and I don’t have a tripod with me.” He holds both hands up and shrugs. “So I just steadied it on the cross bar of the fence.”

Louis smiles. Harry seems cool and Louis is incredibly relieved that he’s not getting arrested. He lets his skateboard slide out from under his arm and down until he’s holding the truck with two fingers. “Were you taking pics of me skating?”

“No. Um, well, not at first. I was taking pictures of the ramps and stuff. The blue light is really cool. But then you showed up, so yeah, I did take some of you.” Harry bites his lip nervously. “Is that okay? I can delete them. I mean, they’re really just… Well, you can look if you’d like.” Harry reaches for his camera and turns it on.

While Harry messes with his camera, Louis steps over until they’re standing shoulder to shoulder and watches as Harry skips quickly through the pictures. The screen changes from photo to photo faster than Louis can focus, but he can still see water and sand and trees and what looks like the occasional selfie. Harry slows down when the pictures turn dark and bluish, and Louis leans a little closer.

The pictures of the skatepark are cool and moody and less creepy than Louis had thought they’d be. Finally, Harry stops and tilts the camera towards Louis so he can see. 

“Oh, wow. Sick.” Louis loves them. He’s a totally unrecognizable blur. A streak of color in a sea of shadow, thanks to his red hoodie. There’s one of him doing a 360, but Louis only knows that because he was there when it was happening. In the picture he looks like a swirl of red floating above the lip of the hazy bowl.

“Thanks. I’m glad you like them.” Harry grins and shuts off his camera. “Are you skating in the comp?”

Louis laughs. “No way.”

“Oh,” Harry says, sounding disappointed. “You seem familiar. I’m here for it, for the surfing—”

“You’re surfing in the Open?” 

Harry laughs, too loudly for the quiet night, but he slaps his hand over his mouth and Louis is immediately endeared. Harry whispers, “No. I’m a photographer. Photojournalist. I freelance, but I’m here to photograph the Open for Surfer Magazine. And write an article. I do a lot of stuff for them.” 

“Oh, do you have like, a fancy underwater camera?” Louis is intrigued. He’s seen them, of course, there are always photographers at the competitions. 

Harry rolls his eyes and wiggles the camera in his hand. “No, it’s nothing fancy, just a waterproof housing for this camera. It’s got some cool accessories—lenses and stuff—but that’s it. Oh, and a special grip so I can take pictures with one hand.”

“That’s really cool. I guess I’ll see you on the beach then.” 

“Are you surfing? I didn’t even think—”

Louis shakes his head and purses his lips. “No. I’m not.”

“But wait, I swear I know you. I was just in Oahu for the Volcom Pro. Louis, right? Tomlinson? You placed second. How—”

There’s a rattling noise. The chain link again. Louis’ eyes go wide and his hand shoots out to grab Harry’s wrist and drag him back into the shadows. “Shit. Let’s get out of here.” 

Louis flattens himself against the wall in front of the stands and inches his way along, pulling Harry with him, until he gets to the edge. There’s an opening just large enough for them fit if they go sideways, so Louis tosses his skateboard down, then slips through and drops to the ground below the stands. Louis can still see a bit, the blue security light shines through the gap, giving him enough light to see Harry’s outline above him. He watches Harry bend his knees and waits for Harry to jump, but instead he hears him whisper, “Here. Take my camera.” So he reaches up, grabs the camera and slings the strap around his neck.

“Come on, man. Jump down here.” Louis backs up a little to give him room and Harry hops down, landing in heap. He clambers to his feet and they stand there, barely breathing, listening for footsteps or any sign that someone is coming their way. 

Harry starts towards the far corner of the stands, then turns and tugs on the sleeve of Louis’ hoodie, and whispers, “This way.”

It doesn’t look like there’s a way out. There’s fencing all along the back side of the stands and Louis thinks they might have to climb back out the way they came. Harry leads him to the place where the fence meets the heavy wooden support post. He turns his back to the chain link, presses his entire body up against it, and it gives just enough for Harry to slip through to the other side. Louis passes him his camera, slides his skateboard through, then pushes himself through the slim opening and out into the open air.

“Are you staying close by?” Louis whispers. “Did you walk here?”

Harry secures his camera strap across his body and answers quietly, “My hotel’s just down the road. The Lodge. It’s nice. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m staying with friends.” Louis points back over his shoulder. “Their family has a little beach house a few blocks from here.” Louis lowers his board to the ground and holds the tail down with his toe. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“No, wait.” Harry reaches out, then drops his hand back down and shoves it in his pocket. “Why aren’t you surfing in the Open?” 

Louis sighs. “I broke my foot last year.” He chuckles lightly at the face Harry pulls, something between sympathy and fear, like Louis is going to tell him the bone was sticking out and there was blood everywhere. “A small fracture. No big deal. I honestly don’t know what caused it. Except I ignored it for like, six months because it didn’t hurt that badly. Then in August, I jumped off my board in shallow surf and it fucking hurt like hell, so I finally went to the doc. Ten weeks in an immobilization boot. Ten weeks out of the water, sitting on my arse back home, hobbling around on crutches, drinking too much beer, and eating too much food. And then coming back after was tough.”

“That… That really sucks.”

“Yeah, you should’ve seen my leg after. It was all skinny and weird looking and I had to do all these one-legged squats and shit to build the muscle back up.” Louis picks his board back up, holds it out in front of his body, and demonstrates. With his left leg straight out in front, he bends his right knee and slowly lowers himself down, and then stands back up. “So, anyway, yeah. It sucked. And I missed out on so much surf.” 

Harry’s standing there watching Louis talk, humming and pinching his lower lip with his thumb and forefinger. “So why are you here then?”

“Oh,” Louis laughs. “I’d already bought my plane ticket, you know, because we come here every February. And I _did_ get an alternate spot. Plus my friends are surfing and while they’re in the water, I get to hang out with their baby.”

Harry’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open in exaggerated surprise. He almost squeals, “A baby?” 

“Yeah, V. You can meet her. She’ll be around for the Open.”

“Who’re her parents?”

“Oh, that's right, you probably know them. Liam Payne and Amelia Wilson.”

Harry nods. “Yeah. I know their names. They both did well in Oahu too. That’s cool that you have—” A yawn takes him by surprise, if his expression is anything to go by. Harry covers his mouth with his hand, but it’s too late. 

Louis yawns too. “I should go. I don’t even know what time it is.”

Harry pulls his phone out of his pocket and says, “Shit, it’s almost two. Hey, can I get your number?”

“Yeah, sure.” Louis reaches for the phone and puts his info in with the surfer emoji. “My phone’s shit though. Like, it hardly ever works. It’s easier to just come looking for me most of the time.” He hands Harry’s phone back. “Okay. I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry walks backwards for a bit, looking down at his phone, then looks up, waves, slips his phone into his pocket, and turns around to walk back to his hotel. 

Louis drops his board and hops on. He’s tired, but he feels good, almost as if he hadn’t gotten shit faced drunk less than twelve hours earlier. That was fun and unexpected. Cool to meet someone who knows the same people and travels in the same circles. Louis wonders if Harry was on their flight over from Oahu. He should get a new phone or try to get his fixed, so Harry can get in touch more easily. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s aware that, for months now, his own family has had to call Liam or Amelia if they want to talk to him. Quietly, he props his board against the wall with the others, adds his shoes to the pile outside the door, and lets himself inside the house. He sleeps until noon, and if he has any dreams, he doesn’t remember them.

«»

It’s warm on Friday, not hot, but warm enough that Louis decides to spread out his towel and lie in the sun for a bit before getting in the water. The surf is easy, with five to eight foot swells, and after Louis feels like he’s hot enough to want to cool down, he tugs his rash guard over his head, straps his leash onto his ankle, and paddles out. 

While he sits and waits for a wave, Louis thinks about the few times he went surfing in the U.K. the year after he came back from Santa Cruz. One weekend he’d taken a trip over to Ireland to surf Mullaghmore Heads. Maybe he’d go back someday soon. The waves had been massive and somewhat frightening and he’d been fucking exhausted by the time he’d gotten back to the hostel he’d stayed in. 

Thinking back to that weekend makes him remember Niall and Bressie and wonder if they surfed there. He’ll have to ask them the next time he sees them.

There are a few other people in the lineup, and Louis has to wait a while before a wave comes that he can paddle for. Finally, he sees the one coming on the horizon and it’s instinct after that. He closes his eyes and feels the water move underneath him, then he drops forward on his belly to paddle, following the swell of the wave. Push up, pop up, and go. They’re not big waves by any means, but he’s able to cutback and turn off the lip to drop back down and keep riding. 

He stays out for a while, until the wind picks up off shore and the waves turn choppy, then he attempts to ride one more in. Even when they’re messy and the waves aren’t worth riding, Louis would rather be doing this than anything else. In the shallow water, he picks up his board and carries it back toward his towel. 

Louis drops his board in the sand, pulls his rash guard off and drapes it over his board to dry in the sun. He squats down to dig through his bag for his water and when he finds it, he plops his bum down on his towel to rest. His phone is somewhere in his bag inside the plastic baggie that he isn’t sure why he bothers with anymore. Still, he fishes around until he finds it, unlocks it, and tries to check his messages. Whatsapp isn’t working at all anymore, none of his messages are sending, he hasn’t had a new message in… that can’t be right. Two months. He makes a mental note to call his mum from Liam’s phone. While he’s at it, he needs to see about getting a new phone altogether. He tosses it back into his bag and pulls out his sunglasses instead, slips them on and lies back on his towel, propped up on his elbows. It’s people watching time.

«»

There’s something poking Louis in the ribs and he tries to knock it away, but it won’t budge. Instead, it starts talking to him. Or keeps talking to him. He’s not sure. Whatever it is, it says, “Wake up, you prick.”

“Fuck off, Liam.” Louis feels weird and itchy and a little bit sticky from the salt water that’s dried on his skin. He stretches and notices that even his board shorts are dry. Damn. “How long was I out?”

“Dunno. But wake up.” Liam shoves him in the shoulder until he rolls over.

Louis pulls off his sunglasses and runs his fingers through the tangles in his hair. Ugh. It’s dry too, and it’s got to be a mess. “What’s up?”

“Well, first of all, you need to do something about your phone.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t already know.”

“You’re surfing Monday.”

Louis’ brow wrinkles in confusion. The sun is bright and he doesn’t understand what’s going on. He puts his sunglasses back on and plants his hand down beside his bum, pushing himself up to stand. “What’d you say? Sorry.”

“I said you’re surfing Monday. You need a new phone. They tried to call you because they’ve had two people pull out of the comp. Good thing you put my number as your second contact or they would’ve called someone else.”

Louis still feels confused. Afternoon naps always make him feel like he’s walking in a dream for the rest of the day. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Shut up, dude. You know I wouldn’t. Wake up.” Liam puts a hand on each of Louis’ shoulders and shoves. “Let’s go get a beer.”

Louis nods, then bends over to look for a shirt, and maybe a hat, in his bag. He finds a t-shirt in a wrinkled ball in the bottom of the bag and pulls it over his head. There’s a battered, checkered Vans snapback in there too, so his pushes his hair underneath it and hopes he doesn’t look too rough. He picks up his towel, shakes the sand off so it flies in Liam’s face and makes him sputter. Louis laughs and stuffs his towel into his bag with the rest of his things. He slides his feet into his flip-flops and carries his board down the beach. Liam follows him, cursing and shaking sand from his hair.

It’s not a long walk to the bar, and when they get there, Louis props his board up against the low wall that runs around the outside, finds an empty barstool, and drops his bag between his feet. Liam sits down next to him and they wait for the barman to come over. 

Niall’s working again, and he seems to be having fun—joking and laughing with customers while he mixes drinks, pours beer, and serves food. 

“Hey, fellas.” Niall gestures to the row of draught beer taps with a raised eyebrow. Louis and Liam both order some local amber ale along with a plate of nachos to share. Niall passes their drinks across the bar and leans onto his elbows. “You ready for Monday?” He nods at Liam.

“Yeah, actually, Louis got called as an alternate, so we’re both surfing.”

Niall grins and wiggles an empty shot glass at Louis. “Tequila?”

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “Not today. I’m not fully functioning as it is.” 

Niall excuses himself when another customer sits down at the opposite end of the bar, and leaves them to their drinks.

Liam sets his beer back down, carefully centered on his coaster. “Hey, so they said you need to be there early tomorrow for paperwork and stuff. You really have to take care of your phone.”

“Shit, yeah, I know. I…” Louis lowers his voice. “I met somebody last night—”

“Last night?” Liam tilts his head like a puppy dog. “You went to bed before I did.”

“Nah, woke up at midnight and went down to the skatepark.” Louis takes a quick sip of beer and continues, “Anyway, jumped the fence, skated around, nothing big, just feeling out the bowl they’re using. This guy shows up or, well, he was there taking pictures. Long story short, he’s a photographer for Surfer Magazine or something.” Louis looks around and whispers, “He’s hot. Like, gorgeous.”

“Yeah? Get in, Tommo.” Liam smiles and raises his pint to clink against Louis’ glass. “But don’t bring anyone back to the house. I mean… You can, but I know how loud you are.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No way, man. I’ve practically lived with you for what? Five years? I know what I’m talking about. You wake up the baby and Amelia will kick your arse.”

Louis laughs and spins the cardboard coaster around in his fingers. “Wish I could have that sometimes.”

“Amelia will kick your arse anytime. Whenever you want.”

“Not that.” Louis elbows him hard and almost sends him falling off his barstool. “What you guys have. You’re quite lucky, you know. Not everyone can find, um, love, I guess. Not with the way we travel all the time. You two are like… The perfect couple. With the perfect baby.”

“Thanks, mate.” Liam’s smile is huge now and his eyes are almost closed from the force of it.

“Yeah, well, I kind of hate you for it, so there’s that. Can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“Married?” Niall asks, returning just in time to overhear, prompting shushing gestures from Louis and a loud hissing sound from Liam. They both swing their heads around, though who knows what they’re looking for.

Liam smacks Louis on the arm with the back of his hand and scolds, “I told you not to say anything.”

Louis rubs the sore spot on his arm and scoffs. “Niall’s not going to tell anybody. He might even be able to help—” Louis’ eyebrows shoot up, his eyes go big, and he opens his mouth into a little O, like he’s had the best idea ever in the history of ideas. “Harry can help.”

“Who?” Liam and Niall ask at the same time.

“Harry. The guy I was just telling you about. He’s a photographer. I bet he’d do it, no problem. I’ll ask him.” 

Liam sips his beer thoughtfully, but Niall still looks confused and asks, “What are you talking about?”

Liam waves Louis on, it’s clearly alright with him if Louis wants to explain, so he does. “Liam wants to propose to his girlfriend, but she doesn’t want like, a ring or anything. So he wants to hire a photographer to take pictures while he proposes. You know, somewhere romantic with good lighting.” Louis laughs at the thought of researching places to visit based on the lighting, but then wonders if maybe Harry does that anyway for work or something. “Anyway, I met this guy yesterday who’s in town to photograph the Open. Seems really cool and I think he’d do it.”

“Wait. Harry… Dark hair, bit taller than me, kind of a slow, deep voice?”

Louis nods.

“Yeah, I met him. He came in here earlier and had lunch. Was talking about taking pictures at the National Park. I didn’t know he was a pro. Thought he was just visiting. Said something about a travel blog.” 

Louis shrugs. “Hmm. Maybe it’s not the same guy or maybe he does both. We’ll probably see him tomorrow, if we go watch the groms.” Louis loves watching the up and coming talent. He tips his beer back and finishes it. “One more beer and we should go. If I’ve got to get up early, I can’t drink more than that.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Liam pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it to scroll through his texts. “Amelia wants to know if we want taco salad for dinner.” He looks at Louis and then looks at the nachos. “Hmm?”

“Okay.” Louis chuckles. “Hey, can I give Harry your number? I gave him mine, but…”

Liam rolls his eyes and nods. “Fine, but please do something about your phone.”

It’s early evening, so they settle their tab and start their walk back toward the house. Louis’ head is still a little hazy from his nap, so Liam takes pity on him and offers to carry his board.

“Thanks, mate.” Louis stretches out his arms after he passes the board to Liam. “Hey, so, that guy. Um, Harry?”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Right, so, like I said, he’s hot and I’m pretty sure he’s gay, or maybe bi or something. I don’t know.” They stop and wait for a few cars to pass before crossing the street and continuing on their way. “What do you think the chances are that he’d be up for like, dating?”

Liam laughs at that. “Slim to none, probably. You know how it is. If he travels like we do, I mean… Seems like it’s always hook-ups or the occasional friends with benefits arrangement. Like that guy that you hooked up with a few years ago at like, whichever comps you met up at. Or how it was with me and Amelia at first.” 

“Yeah. Like I said earlier, you guys are lucky.”

“I know. But so what if you just hook up? That’s cool with you, isn’t it?”

Louis hums and nods. “Sure. I mean, I just met the guy. It’s not like I can be like _hey, mate, want to be my boyfriend_ or anything like that. I don’t even know his last name.”

They kick their flip-flops off beside the door and Louis props his surfboard up on the wall next to Amelia’s. While Liam goes inside to see what he can do to help with dinner, Louis shakes out the beach towels and hangs them over the porch railing, then heads for the bathroom to take a quick shower. 

Taco salad is one of Louis’ favorites and Amelia says she’s made it as a tiny celebration of Louis’ getting to surf in the Open. V sits in her highchair picking up little pieces of taco meat and trying to get them in her mouth. For a baby, she seems to like spicy food. Louis passes her some of his salsa, shredded cheese and guacamole, and by the time they finish eating, she’s smeared most of her face in green and needs a bath. 

Whenever they’re busy enough that he thinks they won’t notice, Louis watches his friends interact. It’s fascinating for him to see two people work in tandem to do pretty much everything. Liam cleans up the mess from the meal that Amelia made, and packs up the leftovers in the fridge, while Amelia wipes down the table and highchair and gets most of the chunks of avocado out of V’s hair, before picking her up and hauling her off to plop her in a tub of warm water. Louis hovers in the bathroom doorway, chatting with both of them. Liam’s still in the kitchen and Amelia is sitting on the floor beside the tub, making shampoo mohawks in V’s wispy brown hair. 

A sigh escapes Louis and he realizes that this is what he wants. Only he’s pretty sure there’s no way for him to get it, at least not as long as he’s traveling to a different country every few weeks and living with his about-to-get-engaged friends and their baby. Maybe he should move back to London and find some restaurant work or go to school or something. 

Louis holds a fluffy towel out and Amelia deposits a wiggly, yawning V in his arms. While he dries her off, he tickles her numerous chins, and gets her giggling so much that Amelia threatens to put him in charge of putting her to bed if he doesn’t stop. She needs to calm down so they can get her to sleep.

While Liam and Amelia put V down for the night, Louis curls up on the couch to zone out in front of the television. A couple of hours later he yawns and stretches and decides to go to bed. He’s got an early start tomorrow.

«»

Day One of the Australian Open of Surfing is Round One of the groms’ competition. It starts with the boys sixteen and under, and since Louis is already there at eight o’clock to fill out his paperwork, he sticks around to watch the kids surf. The thirteen and fourteen year olds kick arse. Louis watches for a couple of hours, sitting up in the soft sand beside the skatepark. Most of theses kids have been surfing since they learned to swim and Louis is a little envious, if only because he’d love to have ten more years of surfing to look back on. 

There are a few photographers around on the beach, and one out in the water on a Jet Ski, but Louis doesn’t see Harry anywhere. There are a lot of people around, and as soon as the skaters and BMX riders start practicing, it’s too crowded to see the water from where he is, even after he stands up. He decides to go back to the house and come down to the beach again later to watch the last heat of the groms’ competition. 

When Louis makes it back down to the beach, it’s late afternoon and the crowd has thinned out. All of the surfers from that morning are still there, cheering on the rest of the pack, and waiting for them to finish up. And there’s Harry. As the last kid hauls her surfboard out of the water, Louis sees Harry standing in the ankle deep water, wearing a wetsuit, camera in hand, snapping photos of all of the kids on the beach. Louis watches him until Harry stops taking pictures and heads towards the press area, then follows him. 

Harry must have been out on the Jet Ski, the other photographers he’d seen on the beach hadn’t been wearing wet suits. He feels a bit creepy following Harry, but he’s too far ahead for Louis to call out for him, and he doesn’t feel like running in the sand, so he just watches him walk and trails behind. Eventually he’ll stop and in the meantime, Louis has an excellent view of Harry’s arse encased in neoprene. 

The press tent isn’t too crowded, most of the press will be over at the skatepark for those competitions tomorrow and won’t be too interested in the surfing until the quarterfinals. Harry’s standing in the corner doing something with his camera, so Louis clears his throat and says, “Hey.”

“Louis.” Harry smiles, big and wide, and waves like they’re not standing eight feet apart. “Was wondering when I’d see you. I’m guessing you didn’t get my message.”

Louis shakes his head. He has to get a new phone as soon as possible. “What was your message about?”

“Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the National Park with me.” Harry carefully places his camera inside its bag and then puts the camera bag on one of the folding chairs that are set up inside the tent. 

“Yeah, I’ll go. It’s a big park. I haven’t seen it all.”

“I already went yesterday. Was going to go by myself, but ran into Julian Dyer and he wanted to go. Do you know him?”

Yes. Louis knows him. In the biblical sense. He nods and tries not to give anything away. “Yeah, he’s cool. I’ve hung out with him before.” 

By hanging out, Louis means that they hooked up fairly often a year or so ago. Every few months they’d run into each other at a competition and, well, the devil you know and all that. But then V was born and Louis broke his foot and the next time he’d run into Julian, Louis just wasn’t interested in blow jobs in the restroom of some shitty bar. So he said _no thanks_ and that was that. No hard feelings. 

Except now there are hard feelings, because Louis doesn’t want Julian’s mouth anywhere near Harry’s cock. Louis’ cheeks heat up at the proprietary nature of his thoughts, but he can’t just let things happen. Positive action and all that. _Be the change_ or whatever that sticker on Liam’s skateboard says. 

“So was there anything else you wanted to see in Sydney besides that park?” Louis figures he might as well ask. Or offer his assistance.

Harry hums and reaches his hand behind his neck and finds the zipper pull where it’s tucked inside his wetsuit. He frees it and reaches his other hand behind his back to pull the zipper down and Louis is just standing there, looking around the tent, because there are people milling about. Not a lot, but some of the press are still there, and there’s another photographer scanning through the pictures on his camera. Harry has worked his upper body free from his suit when Louis looks back over. He’s wiggling it down his hips and Louis can’t stop staring. There are tattoos all over Harry’s body—his chest, stomach, hips, and arms are covered. Louis isn’t sure how he missed seeing them the other night, except that it was dark and he was kind of worried about being arrested, so that’s as good of an excuse as any. 

Before Louis can make himself stop staring at the trail of hair that runs down from Harry’s belly button and fucking say something like _don’t get your cock out in front of all these people,_ Harry quits trying to extricate himself from his wetsuit. 

“Hey, um, Louis. Can you…” Harry stops talking and bends over to dig through his backpack for a minute, finally standing back up with a towel in one hand and a pair of bright pink shorts in the other. “Can you like, hold this towel so I can change?”

Louis blinks slowly and nods. He can do that. Sure. He can stand like two feet away from a super hot guy while he gets naked and bends over in front of him. Harry hands over the towel and Louis holds it up, squeezes his eyes closed, and turns his head to the side. It doesn’t stop him from imagining what’s going on behind the towel, but at least he’s not seeing it first hand. His board shorts are too thin and flimsy to hide an erection and he hadn’t bothered to wear a shirt, so he thinks about surfing and the ocean and concentrates on not thinking about Harry’s naked arse. 

“Thanks.” Harry says as he tugs his towel out of Louis’ hands. “Oh, so yeah, I do have a bunch of stuff I want to see while I’m here. I’m up for company if you want to come along.”

“Have you been here before?”

“Nope. First time in Australia. I’d like to see a lot more of it, but I doubt I’ll be able to stay long.” Harry puts his camera bag across his shoulder, shoves his towel and wetsuit inside his backpack and slips his feet into his flip-flops. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing, really. Why?”

“Well, there’s another part of the park that I wanted to check out. I was going to rent a bike and ride over to the other side of the North Harbour to Reef Bay.”

Louis leads the way out of the tent and turns towards the road that he always walks back to the house. “Don't do that. We have bikes.”

“Oh, yeah? Thanks, mate. Are you sure?” Harry trails behind him as he drags his feet through the sand and up to the pavement. 

“It’s no problem. There’s like five bikes in the garage at the house.” 

They can’t talk much on the bike ride over, but it’s not far, only about twenty minutes away, and then they’re hopping off their bikes and leaning them up against trees. Louis leads the way down toward the rickety wooden staircase and onto the beach. 

As soon as he steps foot off the bike, Harry has his camera out. He doesn’t even follow Louis onto the beach, he stays behind, still up in the trees, taking pictures of whatever strikes his fancy. Since Harry's not paying attention to him, Louis walks on down the beach a bit and out onto one of the large rocks in the middle of the sand. The only other time he’d been to Reef Beach, it had been early and there were quite a few people, but now it’s late afternoon, and the beach is deserted. While Harry wanders around with his camera, Louis decides to go in the opposite direction. He thought this would be sort of like a date, but it’s not even close. He’s literally more than a hundred meters away from Harry and they’ve hardly spoken. 

At one end of the beach is a rocky outcrop. Louis decides to check it out. He might as well do something other than stand around and watch Harry. The climb is a little wobbly in flip-flops, so he takes them off and sticks them in the back of his shorts. Louis is glad he decided to come along, even though it’s not working out like he planned, because from where he stands he can see almost the entire western coast of Manly. There are hotels and houses that line the shore in the distance, coming right up to the water in some cases. To his far right is the untouched beauty of the National Park. The trees along the water’s edge are centuries old and shaped by the wind until they resemble massive, leafy ocean waves. 

“Hey,” Harry calls from the beach behind him. When Louis turns around, Harry waves. It’s so funny when he does that. Like he thinks Louis can’t see him or doesn’t know he’s there or something. 

Louis grins and waves back anyway. “Hey.” He carefully climbs back down off the rocks. “Pretty out here, isn't it? And the rocks are cool.”

Harry smiles as he stands there watching Louis walk toward him on the sand. He holds his camera up to his eye. Click. “Yeah. It’s really a gorgeous view.” Harry snaps the lense cap on and stows his camera inside its bag. “Once I figured out who you were the other night, I looked you up. You surf a lot of the series.” Harry untangles his sunglasses from his hair and slides them over his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s what I do. I mean, it’s my life, I guess.” Louis walks over to the big, flat rock in the middle of the beach and sits down. “I have to surf to win, and I have to win to surf. Points and prize money. Goes both ways.”

“That’s cool.” Harry says as he sits down next to Louis on the rock. “I sort of do the same thing, but not really.”

Louis looks over at him, waiting for him to continue. Dark sunglasses are such a blessing. Louis can look him up and down and Harry is none the wiser. Pink shorts. What the hell. And he looks hot in them. They’re short, like, short short. And he’s not wearing a shirt, so Louis’ gaze lingers on his chest and the scrunch of his abs, and on his thighs, which are kind of just _all right there_ because of the tiny shorts. Louis looks back up to Harry’s face and stares some more, because Harry’s not even looking in his direction, he’s looking out onto the water, and his fucking jaw is insane. Louis wants to suck on it.

Louis clears his throat. “So what do you mean _sort of the same thing?”_

“Oh, well, I work so I can travel, but I travel for work.”

“Yeah, that’s really cool that you can freelance and go to surf comps and stuff.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Harry pushes his sunglasses back up and looks at Louis. His eyes are green. Louis isn’t sure how he hasn’t noticed them before, but they’re lovely. “I mean, I do photograph a lot of the series, but I have a travel blog. That’s what I love doing. Traveling around the world, seeing cool things like this, or you know, waterfalls or caves or whatever interests me in a place, and taking pictures. I’d love to be paid to do that for like, National Geographic or the Travel Channel or something.”

“That would be a great gig. Your pics in a major magazine like that.”

“I’d love it.” Harry leans back on his hands, turns his face toward to sun and closes his eyes. 

They sit side by side in silence for a while and Louis isn’t sure what to say. He likes Harry, at least, he likes what he knows. He seems sweet and kind and polite and fun. His hobbies are interesting and so is his job. And he’s beautiful. Louis crosses his arms and rests them on his knees while he looks out onto the water. The bay is really _blue._

Harry speaks up from behind Louis. “So when do I get to meet this baby that you told me about?”

Louis laughs. “V? You can probably meet her when we go back with the bikes. She’ll be home by then, I think. Oh, hey, I need to ask you something.”

Harry sits up and looks at Louis expectantly. 

“V’s parents? Well, Liam. He wants to propose to Amelia and he said something about wanting someone to take pictures of it. Like… maybe help him figure out a good place and time to do it around here. And photograph the actual proposal. Would you be into that? I mean, he’d pay you, of course.”

“No. I mean, yes, but no, I don’t know if I’d want him to pay me. I’ve never done anything like that before. But it sounds like a really cool thing to be a part of. Do you think he’d do like, a trade? I’ll do the pictures for free if I can put them on my blog and maybe write about it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d do that.” Louis looks back out over the water. “He’s planning to do it on the last day of the Open, I think, or maybe the day after.”

“I don’t know how people do that.” Harry shakes his head. “Relationships like that. It’s like… an impossibility. Especially traveling all the time. I know I can’t imagine that kind of commitment. How in the world could I have a boyfriend when I’m traveling all over the world?” Harry chuckles a little and Louis looks at him.

Oh. Well, alright then. It’s disappointing, but Louis is still up for messing around if that’s what Harry’s into. At least he’s definitely gay. Might as well go for it. Something is better than nothing. “Yeah,” Louis laughs. “It’s so much easier to just have casual things. You know? Who knows where I’ll be in six months, so it’s better if I just do things that way. No strings.” Louis pauses to try to think of the right way to word it. “Do you wanna…” 

_Do you wanna fuck around? Do you wanna blow job? Do you wanna make out?_

“Yeah, I suppose we should go.” Harry answers Louis’ half question and stands up. “So you’ll introduce me to the baby?”

Louis rolls his eyes and walks off toward the stairs and their bikes. Guess messing around is off the table for now. “Yes, Harry, I’ll introduce you to the baby. Her name is Vivian, by the way, but we call her V. Vivian is way too much name for a baby.”

Harry snorts. They climb the steps and pick up their bikes. In less than thirty minutes, they’re back at the house. But Louis makes sure to ride behind Harry most of the way. Might as well get a good look at him while he can. All that bare skin and those tiny pink shorts. The Open is over in eight days. Who knows if they’ll run into each other again.

«»

Liam is standing outside by the barbecue, swinging a pair of tongs around in his hand to entertain V who’s squealing and circling the inside of her playpen like a caged animal. Harry follows Louis into the garage to store their bikes, then back out into the garden where Louis picks V up and spins her around until she’s laughing so hard that she starts hiccuping. 

“Mate, if she spits up, you’re cleaning it up,” Liam warns him, still swinging his tongs. He spins them around once more, then tucks them into the pocket of his apron. “Liam Payne.” He reaches out his hand. “You must be Harry.”

Harry steps forward and shakes Liam’s hand, with his head turned slightly, still watching V and Louis. “Harry Styles. Nice to meet you. I know you. Or of you, I guess. From surfing.”

“Yeah, Louis said you’re a photographer.” Liam’s eyes widen and he looks to Louis and back to Harry like he’s afraid they’re going to blow his proposal surprise.

“Hush, Liam, it’s fine.” Louis winks and plops down onto the grass with V. “Come sit, Harry.” He pats the ground next to him. “You wanted to meet the baby, well, here she is.”

Liam cooks chicken and corn on the grill and Amelia brings a salad out from the kitchen. They all eat on the porch instead of going inside. Harry holds V as much as he possibly can and it’s cute. Louis can’t stop smiling at him. Or staring at him. He knows he’s been caught out more times than he can count by Harry, Liam, and Amelia. V, too, probably. Though at least she won’t give him a hard time about it.

Harry seems to fit in well with their little family and Louis can’t help but be disappointed. Not that he even knows how to go about having a boyfriend anyway, since he’s never actually done that. He knows how to hook up with someone though. He’s definitely done that. It seems like maybe Harry’s on board with the idea with the way his bare thigh presses up against Louis’ when he sits down beside him on the top step. And the way he keeps leaning in close to almost whisper every time he talks to him. 

It’s getting dark and Amelia goes inside to help Liam with V’s bath and bedtime routine. She says goodbye to Harry and winks at Louis as she goes, and of course, Harry sees her and laughs. 

“Subtle.” Harry murmurs, his mouth close enough to Louis’ ear to cause goosebumps to break out all over his arms. 

“Don’t know what you mean, mate.” Louis laughs a little and turns his head and they’re face to face. Inches apart. Harry’s eyes are zigzagging back and forth like he can’t decide which of Louis’ eyes to focus on and Louis knows his are doing the same thing. When Harry’s gaze drops down, Louis leans in and presses their lips together. And their noses. Louis tilts his head and it’s better. Their lips kind of stick to each other, a combination of sweat and sun and salt water, so Louis pulls away to licks his lips, and watches Harry do the same. 

The second kiss is a little smoother, lips sliding together and opening easily. Harry presses forward, almost knocks Louis off the stairs, and Louis laughs against his mouth before pushing back with his lips and tongue. The angle is bad, they’re both wedged onto the top step, but the kiss is hot and Louis wants more. It’s not going to happen here. He pulls away and Harry follows his lips, so Louis leans back in for one more quick kiss. 

“I should walk you to your hotel,” Louis quietly offers. He kind of hopes that if he does that, Harry will invite him up.

“Nah, it’s not far.” Harry stands up and hops down off the steps. “I’ll see you later. Tomorrow maybe?” 

Louis nods. He needs to say something else. “Um, so, I’m here until a few days after the Open. And I think you are too. We could… You know, mess around, hook up, whatever you want to call it. No strings attached and all that while we’re here.”

Harry’s looking up at him while Louis is talking. He stands there shirtless and barefoot in the grass, holding his flip-flops in one hand, while his other hand scratches at the hair on the back on his head. He hums and presses his lips together. “I… I don’t really… That’s not my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I really liked kissing you just now, but I’m more of a relationship guy.”

Louis is shocked. Shocked. What the fuck was that whole ramble on the beach earlier about relationships being impossible and _why would I want a boyfriend?_ Louis’ reaction flips from shock to confusion in a second. 

“I…” Louis tries to think of a way to explain that he’s a relationship guy too. Or at least he thinks he is now. But he can’t figure a way to say it that doesn’t come across like _I’m lying because I wanted to get in your pants._ So he just says, “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And Louis smiles, because of course he does. Harry is sweet and gorgeous and tan and wearing tiny, bright pink shorts and he’s grinning up at him. So yeah, Louis smiles, and when Harry turns around at the end of the road and waves goodbye, Louis waves back. 

Before Louis falls asleep that night, he lies in bed trying to think of a way that he can explain himself to Harry, but he can’t stop thinking about Harry’s arse in his pink shorts and the tan skin of his back while he rode the bike, and his lips. He wanks with his other fist pressed against his mouth, biting into the knuckle of his forefinger when he comes, trying to stifle the sounds he can’t contain. 

«»

Day two is the start of the BMX and skateboarding portion of the Open. Now that he’s officially participating, Louis has a pass and goes down to sit in the stands to watch part of it. The athletes are amazing. Some of the skaters actually scare the shit out of him. They seem to spend more time upside down in the air than on their feet on their boards, and so many of them make front side 540s and McTwists look easy. Louis had once spent two days trying to master just one of those turns and bailed on almost every attempt. When he finally lost control and slammed into the ground, just barely avoiding a broken wrist, he called it quits.

He’s always blown away by the skaters, the younger ones especially. The women’s championship skaters make him want to call his sisters and ship them each a skateboard. Sitting on the metal stands is hard on his bum, and after a while, Louis gets up to go find something else to do. That’s what he tells himself. He’s not looking for Harry. Except of course he is. He finds Harry down on the beach this time, someone else is out on the Jet Ski today. It’s too busy and crowded for Louis to attempt to get Harry’s attention, so he walks down the beach towards the bar. It’s afternoon, he can have a beer or two.

It’s much busier than it has been every other time that Louis has been there, but Bressie sees him coming and finds an extra stool in the back for Louis to sit on. It’s too crowded for conversation, so Louis orders a beer and a sandwich and hangs out by himself. One beer is plenty, Louis decides, because it’s still overcrowded and it’s late afternoon, and the groms are finishing up their final round. He settles his tab and heads back down the beach. This time he doesn’t even try to tell himself that he’s not looking for Harry. 

He finds him in the press tent again. This time he’s already packed up his camera and when Louis walks in, Harry’s pulling a loose, black vest over his head. His swim trunks aren’t as short today, and Louis doesn't know whether to be thankful or disappointed. They’re white though, so maybe it’s an even trade. He’s pretty sure he can see _things._

“Hey.” Louis’ voice cracks and he coughs to clear his throat. “You done for the day?”

Harry’s slightly tangled in his shirt. It’s caught up on his still damp skin, the fabric rolling and bunching on his back and under his arms. He nods and smiles at Louis while he tries to straighten out his vest. “I’m off to check out the waterfall at Collins Flat. I didn’t get to it the other day. Interested?”

Of course Louis is interested. “Yeah, is that at the park? You want to go get the bikes?”

“Yep.” Harry grabs his bag and exits the tent with Louis right behind him. “I thought it might be a good place for your friends. You know.”

“Oh, you think?”

“Mmhmm. It’s supposed to be romantic. So if they do it like, at sunset, it’ll be gorgeous. I just want to check. Do you mind if we’re there for a while?”

Louis doesn’t have to think about it, but he pretends to. Instead, he thinks about what kind of food he can pack, since they’ll probably be there past dinner time. “That’s fine. I think there’s some food left from dinner last night, so I’ll throw that in a cooler.”

While they walk up to the house, Harry tells Louis about everything he wants to see in Australia before he leaves.

The falls are beautiful, of course they are. It’s the perfect setting for Liam to propose to Amelia. There are quite a few people there, it’s much more crowded than Reef Beach had been the day before, so they leave their bikes and their cooler and go for a walk in the shade down one of the paths. Louis thinks that next time he’ll wear his trainers because, while he almost always wears flip-flops, the constant walking and climbing in them is making his feet hurt. Shit. Tomorrow is his first day surfing. Somehow, Louis has managed to push it to the back of his mind, or really, Harry has taken over the front of his mind, leaving very little room for much of anything else.

Harry stops to take some pictures and Louis walks on ahead for a bit, not wanting to interrupt or get in the way. The sound of Harry running in flip-flops to catch up makes Louis smile and he turns around to watch him. Harry grins and runs right up to Louis. He stands there staring, holding Louis’ gaze for so long that Louis starts to wonder if he’s got something on his face. But then Harry looks away for a few seconds. He turns back, chewing on his thumb, then pinches his bottom lip. “Hey, so, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I kissed you and like, I feel like I led you on.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. Harry’s so sweet about it and, yeah, he kind of does feel like that might have been the case, but he almost doesn’t care. “It’s fine. I get it.”

“No, it’s just… I think you’re really cool. I’m having so much fun with you. And like, I really appreciate you coming with me to do this stuff. No one ever wants to.”

“Julian came with you the other day though.”

“Yeah, about that... pretty sure he just wanted to fool around. He wasn’t interested in looking at anything. Or even talking about anything. We ended up leaving early because he was bored.”

Louis laughs. At least he’d been right about Julian’s motives.

Harry continues, “But so, I like you. And it’s kind of weird.” He stops to push his sunglasses up into his hair and that’s not cool. Louis can see his eyes now and he doesn’t know if he can look at them and listen at the same time. “Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. I just like to be honest.”

“No, it’s fine. I, um, I like you too.”

“Well, I did figure that.” Harry steps away when Louis tries to punch him in the arm. “You’re obvious, mate.”

“Shut up.”

“Nah, I like it. So listen. Like I said, I don’t do casual sex. It’s not my thing. I get attached. But I think I can handle some casual kissing.”

Interesting. Louis thinks he can handle that too. 

Five minutes later, Harry has Louis’ back pressed up against a tree, gripping his hips, squeezing and pulling him close. Louis has completely thrown himself into it, sliding his hands under Harry’s vest, up his back, nails scratching his skin. It’s hot outside, and they’re already sweaty, but the heat they’re giving off is different and Louis wants more of it. He moans when Harry drops his hands to Louis’ arse and digs his fingers into the muscle. Harry pulls back, panting against Louis’ mouth, and starts to kiss his way across his cheek, nibbling on his earlobe, and sucking on his neck. Fuck. Louis is hard and he can feel that Harry is too and all he wants to do is rut against him until he comes in his boardshorts. 

Harry bites at the tendon on the side of Louis’ neck and sucks hard and Louis can’t take it. “Ha—Harry.” He plants his hands on Harry’s chest and pushes hard enough that he pulls his mouth away, but he grabs Harry’s shirt so he can’t go far. “Fuck. Stop.”

They’re standing just off the path, Louis is leaning against a tree, Harry’s close enough that it’s like the air between them shimmers from the heat. Harry’s gulping breaths, his hair is messy from Louis pulling on it, and his lips are swollen and pink. Louis has never been more proud of his self-control.

Harry bites his bottom lip and loosens his grip on Louis’ arse, moving his hands up to rest on the tree on either side of Louis head. “Sorry.”

“No, I just… don't want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“Okay.” Harry whispers and ducks his head down for a quick kiss. “Fuck. I guess it’s a good thing we have to walk quite a bit to get back.” He reaches down to adjust himself and Louis feels like he might fall over just from watching that, because yeah, you can definitely kind of see through his shorts. When Harry takes a step back, Louis looks down at his dick trying to bust out of his shorts and sighs. There’s not much to be done. He’s extremely thankful that he wore a t-shirt today and tugs the front hem down in the hopes that it will disguise his erection. 

By the time they get back to the waterfall, Louis’ penis has decided to behave. Harry’s has too, since the bulge in the front of his white swim trunks has shrunken from _holy shit, yes please_ back down to _oh, that’s nice._

Sunset is around half-seven, and Louis can’t understand why, but the beach starts to clear out about an hour before. It’s just the two of them and a few others sticking around, so they open the cooler and sit in the sand to eat. Harry opens a beer, but Louis decides to stick with water. He needs no help lowering his inhibitions and he has to get up and surf in the morning. 

First call for Round One is at half-eight, and he has no idea how he’ll fare against the more than fifty men who are scheduled to surf on the first day. Even with the men and women competing in heats, the surfing is expected to last for about ten hours. Talk about a long day. Louis is more nervous about this comp than any other part of the series, and he’s pretty sure it’s got more to do with Harry than his abilities on his board. 

Harry stirs him out of his thoughts when he stands and offers Louis a hand up. “The light is perfect. Can you go over there by the waterfall so I can take some test shots to show Liam?”

“Sure.” Louis tosses his rubbish back into the cooler and shuts the lid. “How do you want me?” He purrs and winks at Harry and even in the glow of the sunset, he can see Harry’s face flush at his innuendo.

“Just, I don’t know, wherever you think Liam would do it. I don’t want it to be too planned, I don’t think. I’d rather him feel more natural about it.” Harry turns around and looks behind himself, then turns back to Louis. “Do you think he’ll want me to hide? And like, be sneaky? Or do you think it’ll be easier if you come too, and maybe V, so Amelia thinks it’s just a picnic?”

Louis hums and thinks it over for a few seconds. “Option two. Amelia would probably refuse to even come out here if it was just her and Liam. But for you and me, she’d be willing to play tourist.”

Harry nods and points towards to falls. “Walk on over there. Try to look, I don’t know, like you’re proposing or being proposed to.”

Louis rolls his eyes and kicks sand at Harry, but he does as he’s told and he has fun with it. He starts off pretending to be proposed to. Gasping dramatically and clapping both hands over his wide open mouth, then jumping up and down yelling _Yes! Yes! Yes!_ at the top of his lungs. Harry’s laughing so hard that he begs Louis to stop. He can’t even take a picture because his camera is bouncing around so much. 

Louis decides to start proposing instead. He’s still trying to make Harry laugh, but it’s not working. Harry has somehow become immune to Louis’ jokes and that just will not do. He goes all in, and he doesn’t really think about it, it’s just that Harry’s there, and he doesn’t know who else to fake propose to, so he keeps proposing to Harry. Down on one knee, on both knees, in the sand, and in the water. He’s asked Harry to marry him so many times in the last thirty minutes that he’s resorted to crawling on his knees across the sand, shouting, “Marry me, Harry, because it rhymes!” 

Harry just stands there, taking pictures of Louis as he walks on his knees over to him. The light is mostly gone at this point, the pictures can’t be turning out, but he keeps pressing the button, clicking away, until Louis is kneeling right in front of him. 

“You live your whole life wondering what it’ll be like when someone proposes or you propose to someone, and this is totally not at all what I expected.” Harry lifts his leg and plants his foot in the center of Louis’ chest, pushing him over backwards into the sand. “We should go. I don’t like biking in the dark.”

“Yeah, okay.” Louis hops up and brushes the sand off his body. “I have to be up early. I’m in heat four.”

«»

Heat One is a disaster. One dude drops in on another guy’s wave and their boards collide; thankfully, no one is hurt. Another surfer just can’t get a good wave until the very last minute, so his second wave score is null, dropping his total to under ten. The men’s second and third heats go alright, and they’re alternating women and men, so by the time it’s Louis’ turn, more than two hours have passed and the waves are in much better shape. They all manage two waves easily, and Louis’ score is an even sixteen. He’s pretty sure he’s moving on to Round Two after that. He feels incredibly lucky when he carries his board out of the water.

Liam isn’t surfing until the next day, but he’s on the beach, with V strapped to his back, so he can watch Louis and Amelia. She’s in one of the last heats, so while they wait, they all stand around watching the other surfers and cheering them on. Harry’s out in the water about waist deep, taking pictures from just outside the surf zone, as each surfer takes their turn. Louis feels incredibly lucky that he hadn’t noticed him until after he finished his second wave or he might have been more nervous.

Amelia’s set goes well, she gets two great waves and even manages to catch air on the second one. V claps along with everyone else and shrieks in her dad’s ear when Louis tickles her chin. 

Surfers are in the water until after six o’clock and by the time everyone’s scores have been posted and Louis knows for sure he’s moving on, it’s past dinner time, he’s exhausted, and he’s lost track of Harry. So he walks home with Liam and, after a quick dinner and a shower, he goes to his room and climbs in bed to watch Netflix until he falls into a dreamless sleep.

«»

Day four is weird. Liam’s heat is early in the day and the waves are absolute shit. He doesn’t catch his first one until more than ten minutes in, and then he struggles to find a second, finally just going for it when they blow the two minute air horn. They’re all on edge for the rest of the day, waiting to see how the water is for the other heats, and waiting for the other scores to see if Liam’s is good enough to move on to Round Two. 

Liam and Amelia are sitting in the sand, watching the other surfers, and V is getting antsy staying still for so long, so Louis takes her for a walk down the beach. A little way down the sand, they bump into Niall, who’s on his way to the comp to watch Bressie’s heat. In all the excitement (and all the Harry), Louis had forgotten that Bressie was surfing today. He settles V onto his shoulders and they walk back with Niall to watch the rest of the first round. 

It sucks, getting a shit score in Round One. Bressie’s out before he even gets started. The waves are still crumbly and practically useless. On any other day, you wouldn't see a single board out on the water. Instead, you’ve got experienced, professional surfers struggling just to catch one wave. When Bressie trudges out of the water, Niall greets him with a hug and brings him over to where their little group has congregated. They have to wait until the very end before they find out for sure if Liam’s made it to the next round. When they finally get the good news, Amelia invites Niall and Bressie over for dinner and tells Louis to invite Harry, so it’s a party. Albeit a mostly sober one, since three of them have to be up early to surf in the morning.

Niall and Bressie have long since gone, Amelia and Liam have taken V inside the house for her bath and bedtime, and Louis and Harry are sitting out on the porch swing. Well, Harry’s sitting on the porch swing. Louis is sitting on Harry, straddling his lap, and sucking on the edge of his jawline like he’s wanted to do for days. They’re just getting to the good part when a cough comes from the doorway.

“Excuse me, boys,” Amelia interrupts, “Louis, your mum called, but I didn’t get to it in time.”

Louis drops his forehead down to Harry’s shoulder and sighs. Amelia hands him Liam’s phone and says, “You need to get a new phone.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis slides off of Harry’s lap, sits next to him on the swing, and looks at the dark screen of Liam’s phone. 

Harry peers over at the phone in Louis’ lap and pushes the home button to make it light up. “It’s late. I should go.” He stands up and stretches and goes to retrieve his flip-flops from the pile by the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees and reaches out to grab Harry’s wrist. “Hey, can I give you Liam’s number since my phone is fucked up? Or here, you put your number in.” He holds Liam’s phone out for Harry to take.

Harry twists his wrist around, grabs Louis’ forearm, and pulls him out of the swing. He slips his other hand around to Louis’ arse and leans down to kiss him soundly. Their wet lips smack as they pull apart. “Actually, I already gave Liam my number, but that’s for his own personal use.” Harry winks, then tips his head until his breath is tickling Louis ear, and whispers, “If you want to call me, you’re going to have to do something about your phone.” He pinches Louis’ bum and leaves him standing there, mouth hanging open, holding Liam’s phone.

It’s probably too late to call his mum back, so he makes a mental note to do it in the morning. Or at least he thinks he'll figure out the time difference in the morning. 

He can hear Liam snoring when he walks down the hall to his bedroom, so he grabs a quick shower, wanking while the conditioner sits in his hair, thinking about Harry’s hands on his arse on the porch swing. Liam’s still snoring when Louis dries off and crosses the hall to his bedroom, so at least he managed to keep quiet enough. He’s getting a lot of practice at keeping his mouth shut.

«»

Day five is Round Two of surfing and the men and women are in alternating heats all day. The waves are good today, eight-to-ten foot swells, and steady, so it looks like everyone will easily get at least two good sets, if not more. Still, Louis only gets two waves in his twenty minutes, but they’re both strong scores, and he’s able to get an actual 360 on the second wave, though he stumbles a bit at the end, dips the nose in, and misses a perfect ten. He’s happy with his scores though, so he smiles big and winks like an idiot when he sees Harry standing on shore with the camera. 

Amelia and Liam each catch three waves and Liam absolutely kicks arse, winning the day with a total score of 18.7 and blowing everyone else out of the water. Louis can’t believe Harry’s not around to laugh at his pun. They all hang around at the end, building sandcastles for V, and cheering on the competition. 

“Amelia.” Louis calls out, stretching out the ‘E’ sound and making kissing noises at V who she’s bouncing on her hip. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Why? What do you want?” She looks at him suspiciously and waits.

Louis gives her his best smile and offers, “I’ll change V’s nappies for the rest of the day if you’ll drive me to the Vodafone shop.”

Amelia squints her eyes and taps her fingers against V’s bum. She passes the baby over to Louis and says, “Start now. She smells.”

“Gross. Thanks. Can we go soon though?” Louis takes the nappy bag and V and waits for Amelia to nod, then heads for the nearest restroom. 

On the way back, Louis sees Harry over by the press tent and stops to say hello. And to show off V, of course. 

“Say hi, V.” Louis tells her and she raises her little fist in Harry’s direction.

Harry squeals and Louis laughs and wonders if that’s his reaction every time he sees any baby. He still has his camera in his hand and goes to set it down, but stops and asks, “Do you think it’d be okay to take her picture?” 

Louis nods and smiles, then tickles her belly to make her laugh and Harry snaps a few pictures. “Just wanted to stop and say hi. I have to take her back now.”

V reaches out a slimy fist when Harry steps closer and he lets her hold his thumb. “Hey, do you want to come with me to the botanical gardens later?” 

“I’m sure she’d love to, but she’s got plans to nap.” Louis let’s V’s nappy bag slide down his arm and sets in on one of the folding chairs.

Harry laughs way too loudly for a joke that wasn’t that funny. “No, I meant you.”

“Oh, I can’t.” The way Harry’s face falls makes Louis want to change his plans immediately. “Amelia’s driving me over to the phone place in North Sydney. Otherwise I’d go for sure.”

Louis can’t handle the way Harry’s facial expressions change so rapidly every time he says something else. It’s adorable, and frankly disturbing that another person’s smile should mean so much to him. 

Harry wiggles his thumb in V’s grip and pretends she’s breaking his hand, complete with wails of pain and thrashing limbs. She’s fascinated by him and laughs until she starts to hiccup. 

“The phone shop then?” Harry asks with a grin. 

Louis nods and Harry holds his hands out to V and she attempts to leap out of Louis’ arms, so he passes her over. Harry leans her up against his chest and starts patting her back in a rhythm that seems familiar, but Louis can’t place it. “What is that? Is that a song?”

“Yeah, it’s Zeppelin. The opening chords of ‘The Ocean.’” Harry smiles and pats her back again, but this time he hums along, and Louis recognizes it immediately. V gurgles at him and tries to shove her fist in Harry’s mouth, but she’s no longer hiccuping. “Finally fixing your phone?”

“No, I’m getting a new one. Mine’s not worth fixing. Need a new plan too. You know how it is with traveling. It’s better if I do pay as you go or I’ll go over my limit. I’m just glad there’s usually free Wi-Fi wherever I stay.” 

“Yeah.” Harry’s not even paying attention to Louis, he can tell. All eyes on V. She’s got both hands wrapped up in Harry’s hair and they’re making faces at each other. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see if anyone else wants to go with me.” Harry shrugs one shoulder, then looks off somewhere behind Louis and points. “There’s Julian, I’ll ask him.”

Louis spins around, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste, but there’s no one there. He turns back around slowly, puts his hands on his hips and taps his toe. “Arsehole.” 

“Shh, Louis.” Harry scolds him and tries to cover V’s ears. “No swearing around the baby.” But he can’t keep a straight face and laughs while he says, “You were jealous.”

Louis rolls his eyes and reaches for V. “Give me the baby. You’re too mean to hold her anymore.”

Harry gasps like Louis has just said the most horrible thing, but he hands her over. “Nah, I’ll just go by myself. But they close at eight, so… I might be hungry after.” 

“You might be hungry after.” Louis bounces V on his hip, turns her around to face him, and says, “V, I think Harry is asking me on a date.”

Harry sputters, “No, I didn’t mean—”

“I was kidding,” Louis sighs. Of course it’s not a date. “We can eat. I’ll meet you at nine. You know the bar where Niall and Bressie work?”

Harry nods and Louis smiles and waves V’s hand, then picks up her nappy bag. On the walk back he decides he’s going to wear Harry down. All this kissing is fine, really it’s super hot, but Louis wants more. An actual date would be a nice start.

«»

The process of getting a new phone is annoying and time consuming, and Amelia insists that Louis buy her a Hello Kitty case for her own phone. After all, he’s getting out of nappy duty while Liam has V at the cottage. It’s after eight when they get back to the house, so Louis showers quickly and then stands over his pile of clothes, sorting them into dirty and cleanish, and looking for something to wear. He really needs to do laundry. 

Louis’ only pair of jeans still have tape residue on them from when he’d used them to cushion the nose of his favorite board on the flight from Oahu. But they’re the best thing he’s got, so he pulls them on. He can’t find a clean shirt, so he steps across the hall to borrow one from Liam. Their bedroom door is open, and when Louis pokes his head inside, Liam is standing right there looking at his phone.

“You have a clean shirt I can borrow?”

“Oh, hey, man. I was just coming to get you.” Liam holds up his phone for Louis to see the text message screen. “Harry just cancelled on you. Said he had something come up and he’s sorry.”

Louis sucks his upper lip into his mouth, then lets it go. “Right. Well, guess I don’t need to borrow a shirt.” Instead, Louis goes to his room, peels off his jeans, but keeps his pants on so he can haul all of his dirty laundry out to the garage to throw in the washing machine. Liam’s clothes are in the drier and Louis hesitates a second before pulling on one of his t-shirts. Louis’ boardshorts are dry enough from hanging over the porch railing all afternoon, so he puts them on, grabs his shoes, his wallet, and his skateboard, and heads for the bar. He’s been looking forward to eating dinner there, and he figures he might as well go by himself. 

On the way down to the bar, Louis speculates about Harry’s reasons for cancelling dinner. Maybe it had seemed too much like a date. But Harry’s been very open and honest with him about everything, so it seems unlikely that he’d lie. Maybe it’s work related. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic. Louis decides it doesn’t matter. Harry will tell him about it tomorrow when Louis gives him a hard time for standing him up tonight.

He walks down the beach to the bar with his skateboard under his arm. His shoes fill with sand and it’s weirdly cool against his skin, but it feels good, so he stops to kick them off and carries them instead. A loud, honking laugh rings out, and just outside the reach of the bar’s lights, Louis stops. From where he’s standing, he figures that no one in the bar can see him, so he stays there for a moment, long enough to make sure that what he thinks he sees is what he actually sees. It is. So he turns to leave, no longer very hungry, disappointment heavy in his heart. 

On a stool at the corner of the bar, Harry seems to be having a good time with a man who is definitely not Louis. Laughing at something he’s said, leaning in close to talk, drinking a beer, and eating dinner. Apparently Harry cancelled his _not a date_ with Louis to have an actual date with someone else. 

Back at the house, Louis sits on the porch swing and drinks most of the beer in their fridge by himself. He finally stumbles into bed around three in the morning and dreams of hurricanes and rough waters.

«»

Day six starts off shitty and doesn’t improve. Louis wakes up hungover sometime in the afternoon. He barely makes it down to the beach on time and still feels awful when he takes to the water. As he’s paddling out with the other three guys in his heat, he sees Harry with his camera, standing just outside the surf area in waist high water, smiling at him, and waving. Louis reacts by attempting to scowl and smile simultaneously, then gives up and looks away just in time to duck under a breaker. 

Usually, if he surfs when he’s hungover, Louis will paddle out and just sit on his board, floating with his eyes closed, while the sun beats down on his back until he feels well enough to actually surf. That’s not a possibility when he only has twenty minutes to catch two waves that are good enough to move him to Round Four. He’s on the inside, which sucks for a few reasons, one of which is that he’s closest to Harry and he’d rather be elsewhere. Another is that the other three guys are behind him, and he can’t see them unless he looks for them. With his foggy brain, he’s not thinking clearly, and when he sees the swell, he closes his eyes, feels the rolling of the water under him, thinks _good wave_ and _dig in_ and _wait until Harry sees this_ , because it’s a fucking awesome wave and he can easily score nine or more on it. What he doesn’t think about is the guy behind him who took off first, who’s already riding the wave, who Louis drops in on. He ruins it for both of them. Luckily no one is hurt and it’s someone Louis knows. He apologizes and they move on. 

His first wave is passable. The second one sucks. 

Both Liam and Amelia had surfed in the morning and had taken V home for lunch and a nap, so Louis waits around by himself to see if his score is high enough to move forward, hiding his eyes behind dark sunglasses, sitting up in the soft sand, away from the crowd, until the last heat finishes. He only makes it to the next round by a tenth of a point, and only then because one of the last guys out misses the cut off time and only gets scored on one wave. The entire Open was almost thrown away because of Harry. Or because Louis let himself get distracted by Harry. 

There are really only two rules: don’t get drunk before a competition and don’t get distracted. Louis is managing a hangover from hell and there’s a living, breathing distraction in bright pink shorts walking his way. 

Harry kicks a little bit of sand onto Louis’ foot, then stands there with his hands on his hips, looking down at Louis where he's sitting cross legged in the sand. “You alright?”

Louis grunts and nods. That’s about all he can manage. 

“Sorry about last night. Something came up.” Harry pulls his backpack off his shoulder and digs through the front pocket until he finds his phone, then asks, “You get your new phone?”

Grunting and nodding seems to be working fine as a form of communication, so Louis keeps it up.

“Can you put your new number in?” Harry grins and holds out his phone expectantly.

Rather than grunting, this time Louis just makes a drawn out sound, kind of like, “Uhh,” and takes Harry’s phone. Amelia had forced Louis to recite his new number repeatedly on the drive home yesterday as a form of punishment or torture or maybe practice for when V starts learning her numbers, he’s not sure. But he’s memorized it, so he replaces his old, useless number in Harry’s phone and hands it back.

It seems like Harry wants to say something else, but he's just standing there silently watching him, and Louis really hates it. So before Harry can speak, Louis stands up, grabs his board, looks away from Harry, grumbles something about not feeling well, and leaves without another word.

When Louis steps out of the shower that evening, there’s a text from Harry on his phone. He ignores it, leaves his phone on his bed, and sits down to have dinner. Years of traveling and surfing and living together mean that Liam and Amelia know better than to try to talk to Louis about his score that day. Instead they talk about the baby, how close she is to her first real steps, and about Louis’ laundry, which he’d forgotten about and left in the washer for a full day. He runs outside to rewash them and gets everything in the drier before he goes to bed. Early. He’s determined to have a better day tomorrow, at least in the water.

Lying there in the dark with his phone on his chest, Louis debates whether to text Harry back. His message is simple. _Dinner tomorrow night?_ Louis decides to sleep on it.

«»

Louis wakes up early on day seven with plenty of time for extra coffee and toast. Feeling good from a solid night’s sleep and fresh coffee, Louis decides that he might as well meet up with Harry for dinner. If anything, it’ll give him a chance to get his thoughts about the whole thing out in the open. He texts Harry _okay_ and goes looking for his clean rashguard. 

The waves are twelve foot, the biggest they’ve been so far for the Open, and they’re smooth with barrels, which Louis is fucking pumped for. He and Liam are in the same heat today, and it’s at midday, so they watch the earlier runs and Louis wishes he was already out there. 

Amelia kicks arse, just like she’s done every day of the comp so far. Louis is so proud and he knows Liam is at least twice that. He’s got V on his shoulders and they’re screaming and hollering for her every time she pops up, and she manages four waves in twenty minutes, which is almost unheard of. 

When it’s their turn, Liam and Louis pick up their boards and walk together towards the water. Liam nudges Louis’ shoulder and nods his head to the side. Harry. He’s standing in ankle deep water, waving and taking pictures of them carrying their boards, and for some reason it pisses Louis off. Yes, he agreed to dinner, but he’s still angry about the other night. Still disappointed in the entire situation, and really embarrassed at the way he’d reacted and how he’d let it affect his surfing. Louis doesn’t wave back at Harry this time, and he doesn’t smile. 

The first wave goes to Liam and Louis takes the second. They’re surfing the way they do when it’s for fun, and Louis is having a blast. He ends up with enough time to try for a third wave, and since the first two scored high enough that he’s most likely moving on to the next round, Louis decides to go for it. The swell comes and Louis digs in, paddling hard, pops up and it’s perfect. He rides straight through the barrel, a rush of adrenaline courses through his body, then once he’s cleared that and the wave is still massive, still ridable, he cuts back up the face of the wave, then down, and rides it out, his heart pounding in his chest, the roar of the ocean in his ears. It’s the highest score of the day and Louis is ecstatic. 

Liam, Amelia and V meet him on the wet sand, jumping and screaming and flailing their arms around. It’s a mess and Louis loves it. _This is why he’s here._

Amelia takes V back up to the house, but Liam and Louis hang around to watch some of the skateboarding.

“Awesome waves today.” Liam’s smile is huge and contagious. 

Louis just grins back and nods. 

“You coming to dinner at Amelia’s mum and dad’s tonight?”

“No.” Louis shakes his head and turns to look back down at the bowl. “Meeting Harry later.” 

“Wow. You sound thrilled,” Liam says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell me more about your super hot date.”

Louis rolls his eyes and sighs. “Things just aren’t going to work out with him. I’m in for dinner tonight, but I think I’m going to be done with him after that.”

“Why? I thought you really liked him. He seems cool. You guys have fun together.” 

“When he cancelled on me the other night? He was with someone else.” Louis shrugs. “I’m not into sharing.”

“That sucks. I liked him. It’s really too bad.”

Louis hums and nods. “It is what it is, mate.”

“Shit. Guess I better find someone else to take the pictures, huh?”

“Nah. I'm sure he'll still do it. Don't worry about it. I'll ask him tonight though.”

«»

After a nap and a shower, Louis gets dressed for his non-date. Since all of his clothes are clean, possibly for the first time in six months or more, he’s overwhelmed by the number of plain white and plain black t-shirts he’s been able to haul around the world in a backpack. He goes with black. Black t-shirt, black jeans, black and grey checkered Vans. When he takes off on his skateboard, his hair is still damp, but he doesn't care if it dries a mess. It’s not a date, so it doesn’t matter.

Bressie isn’t there, but Niall’s behind the bar. It's a Friday night, and it’s pretty slow for the weekend, especially with all of the tourists in town for the Open. Harry’s nowhere to be seen, so Louis props his skateboard up against the outside wall, and sits at the far end of the bar. That way he can see Harry when he shows up. 

“Hey, mate.” Niall calls from the other end of the bar. “Same beer?”

Louis nods and asks for a menu. Maybe he’ll order something while he waits for Harry. Niall brings Louis’ beer over and hands him a menu. He leans against the bar while Louis looks it over.

“Where are all the people?” Louis asks and takes a sip of beer. “It’s usually packed in here. I thought it’d be busier.” 

Niall shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Bressie said a bunch of the guys rented a house together and when most of them didn’t make it past the first few rounds, they decided to throw a party. So everybody’s there instead of here.”

“Sucks for you, but I’m glad I got a seat.” Louis gives Niall a big grin. “Maybe you can have a drink with us later.”

“Who’s us?”

Louis points towards the open doorway at Harry as he walks inside. He’s wearing the same thing he had on the night they met at the skatepark, but in the light he looks completely different. For one thing, his shirt is practically see-through. For another, his jeans look like they’re tighter than Louis’, and that’s really saying something. They’re rolled up at the ankle and he’s got the same black flip-flops on his feet. Louis pats the stool next to him and Harry smiles wide enough to show both dimples.

“No, I think I’ll sit down there with that guy.” Harry gestures over his shoulder with his thumb at the elderly gentleman at the other end of the bar. 

“You don’t want to do that, mate.” Niall laughs and raises his voice loud enough that the man can surely hear him. “That’s Carl. He’s a cranky, old bastard.” Carl raises his hand and flips Niall the bird, then goes back to his drink. “See?” Niall laughs again.

“Ok, then. I guess I’m sitting here. No other choice.” Harry orders the same amber ale that Louis is drinking and pulls his stool over with the excuse that they can look at the menu together. 

There’s no point in waiting. He needs to know. “So what came up the other night that you had to cancel?”

The last thing Louis expects is for Harry to look at him and smile. He's completely taken aback when Harry says, “Oh, it was a work thing. One of the editors was in town. They’ve loved the stuff I’ve sent in already from here, and that’s just some unedited pics and some notes. They’re sending me to Tahiti for the Papara Pro.” Harry’s so obviously happy that Louis’ mouth stretches into a smile. It widens even more when Harry says, “I’m really sorry about cancelling on you. I didn’t want to, but it was the only time he was available. He had to fly out the next morning.”

Relief floods Louis’ body, followed by a wave of anticipation. Tahiti. They’ll both be there. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but his hopes have returned and they’re inexplicably higher than they were before. The plan to wear Harry down is back in action. Louis is going to charm his pants off. Possibly literally.

They order the same giant seafood platter that Louis had shared with Niall, Bressie, and Liam, and while they eat Louis turns on his stool until his knee rests against Harry’s thigh.

Louis taps a finger against Harry’s pint glass. “You have to be on the beach before eight every day, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, if I’m supposed to be out on the Jet Ski, I have to be there at half-seven. Eight o’clock the other days.” Harry wiggles his leg back and forth, jostling Louis’ knee. “Why?”

“Just curious. I’m not surfing until tomorrow afternoon. Didn't know how late you wanted to stay out tonight.”

“Hadn’t really thought about it.” Harry leans his elbow on the bar and rests his temple against his fist. “Are you excited for the live music? There are some cool people coming.”

Louis watches Harry’s lips as he talks. The way his mouth moves is fascinating and from this close it’s distracting; it takes him a second to work out what Harry’s actually said. “Oh, yeah, um, Steve Aoki should be fun. I saw him in Florida last year.”

“Did you get caked?” 

“No. Amelia did though. Was hard to wash the icing out of her hair too. She complained for two days.” Louis reaches up to brush his still damp hair off his forehead. “I can’t say anything, really. I avoided the whole front area because I didn’t want cake in my hair, so…”

Harry smiles and Louis watches his eyes as they roam over his face. It’s almost as if he can feel Harry’s gaze like a touch on his hair, his cheek, his jaw. Louis nudges Harry’s leg with his knee again. “What about you?”

“Hmm?” Harry asks distractedly. “What about me?”

Louis looks at him from beneath his lashes and smirks. “What bands and stuff are you looking forward to?” It’s working. He’s wearing him down.

“Oh, I don’t know. I only knew about Aoki, so I guess him.” Harry runs his finger around the rim of his beer glass and watches Louis watching his finger. “So you’re hanging around here until the Papara Pro. Where do you go after Tahiti?”

“I’m going home. My mum wants me to visit and I figured I might as well.” Louis sits back a bit and picks up his pint. He’s been slowly leaning closer and closer to Harry, and if he’s not careful, his control will slip. “Plus, my sisters and my baby brother miss me.”

“Baby?” Harry’s voice goes high-pitched and Louis chuckles.

“Dude. How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.” Harry frowns and asks, “Why?” 

“For a twenty-three year old guy, you sure do get excited by the word _baby.”_

Harry lifts his head off his hand and smacks Louis’ arm. “Babies are the _best thing,_ Louis.”

“Well, don’t scream or fall off your stool or anything, but I have… wait for it… twin baby siblings. A boy and a girl.”

Harry’s eyes go comically wide and he claps his hands together. Louis can’t help but laugh. “Twins? Wait. You said sisters. How many of you are there?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s only one of me.” Louis winks and sips his beer. “But I have five sisters and one brother. All younger.”

“Oh, wow. I bet your house is loud.”

“It can be.” Louis admits. Christmas is practically deafening, but no one needs to know that. Not now anyway. “What about you? Do you have any babies in your family? Is that what feeds this obsession of yours?”

“I have a sister. She’s older, but she doesn’t have any kids.” Harry pokes Louis in the shoulder and says, “It’s not an obsession. I’m not going to steal your twin babies.” Harry’s smiling and swinging his leg, the other one, not the one that Louis is touching. That one hasn’t moved, except to press against Louis’ knee. 

“Well, I’d hope not.” Louis is smiling back and he feels really good about the night. Like even though it’s not a date, it is. It certainly feels like it. They’re flirting like crazy, touching each other nonstop, and Louis can’t stop the stupid grin on his face. He feels silly doing it, but he pokes Harry back the same way and says, “It’s not like I’m going to bring you home to meet my family.” Oops. Louis immediately feels like he’s said too much or crossed some weird, invisible, crooked line, because Harry completely stills. 

He doesn’t laugh and his smile starts to slip and Louis doesn’t know how to fix it. Thankfully Niall slides a platter of food onto the bar in front of them and they’re both distracted. At least for a little while.

The food is excellent, of course, and they each have another beer while they eat. Niall hangs around and talks about the Open and helps them eat some of their chips until eventually their giant plate and both pint glasses are empty. The pay their tab, split down the middle, and say goodnight to Niall. 

As they plod back through the sand, Louis reaches over and circles his fingers around Harry’s wrist. “Hey. Sorry if I said something that upset you earlier.” He gives Harry’s wrist a quick squeeze and lets go as they hit the pavement. 

“It’s okay. It’s me really.” Harry leans against a lamppost while Louis knocks the sand out of his Vans and puts them back on. “I’ve only known you for like a week, but… I don’t know.”

“What?”

“Don’t know. Just sometimes I wish things were different.” Harry pushes off of the lamppost and starts to walk. “I love my job. And my life, really. I love traveling. It’s the little things that I don’t get to have though, you know?”

“I do.” Louis readily agrees. “I know exactly what you mean. Look at the people I travel with. Lucky bastards.”

“But you don’t even want that. You said that you like no strings hook-ups because it’s better to be casual.”

A self-deprecating laugh escapes Louis without his permission. “Yeah, well. Sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”

“Huh?”

“Harry, right before I said that, do you know what you said? I don’t remember your exact words, but after I told you about Liam proposing to Amelia, you basically said that you thought committed relationships were impossible and that you didn’t want a boyfriend.”

“I did not.”

“You did. I swear. Because that’s the only reason I said what I did about no strings or whatever it was I said.”

“What?” Harry stops in the middle of the pavement and Louis wants to laugh at the look of utter confusion on his face. “Why?”

Louis takes a deep breath and looks down at his feet. “Fuck. Okay, can we keep walking? I don’t want to look at you while I say this.”

“Why not?”

“Because… I’m embarrassed?” Louis looks up and catches Harry’s gaze and immediately squeezes his eyes closed as tight as they’ll go. “Please?”

“You’re weird. But okay.” 

Louis opens his eyes to see Harry a few feet ahead of him, walking away. He jogs to catch up. “Okay, so just don’t get all creeped out.”

Harry snorts. “I make no promises.”

“Ugh. Fine. The night I met you at the skatepark, I thought you were gorgeous.” Louis peeks out of the corner of his eye and sees Harry fighting a smile. “The next day I told Liam about you. I’ve been feeling… weird? Different? I don’t know how to describe it. Ever since right before V was born. Being around them, their little family, and being a part of that, it’s important to me. I guess, um, seeing them together, and the way they live and work and just _are_ with each other. Made me want that.” Louis chances a quick glance at Harry, but he’s looking away. All Louis can see is the little curls on the back of his neck, but then he turns and catches Louis watching him.

Harry squints his eyes and frowns. “Are you planning to steal their baby?” 

Louis barks a laugh. “Shut up. And no. I don’t want a baby. Not now, anyway. Someday, yeah. I _do_ want a boyfriend, but like I was telling Liam, those two are lucky to have what they have. Not everyone can go from a one-off, to a casual hook-up, to a steady relationship, to being someone’s parents. And now he’s going to propose. It doesn’t happen. Not with the way we hop from place to place every few weeks.”

“True.”

“Oh, shit.” Louis freezes mid-step. “They’re going to get married and leave me.” Somehow, this hasn’t occurred to him until right this second. “They’re already planning to stay here for a while. They're not going with me to Tahiti. Fuck. I can’t believe this.” Louis presses his thumb and middle finger against his eyelids.

Harry’s warm hand closes over Louis’ and he tugs it away from his face. “Chill out.” Harry holds Louis’ hand between both of his and rubs his palms over Louis’ fingers, warming his skin. Then he lowers Louis’ hand and laces their fingers together. “Come on. Walk me to my hotel.”

Louis’ hand is warm inside of Harry’s and he’s going along with this, but he’s not sure what’s happening. Holding hands is a boyfriend thing, right? But they’re not dating. Maybe this means they will. Who knows. Louis smiles and bumps his shoulder against Harry’s and Harry does it back, almost knocking Louis into the street. Louis can see the sign for Harry’s hotel, and suddenly Louis doesn’t want Harry to invite him up. Things are going well and Louis is wearing him down. He feels a hundred times more positive about his chances now that he knows Harry cancelled on him for work, and especially since he spilled his guts about relationships and stuff. No. Things are just fine. Louis almost doesn’t believe it when he stops at the corner of the building where the streetlights don’t quite reach, and pulls Harry around to face him.

“I’m going to go home.” Louis raises one finger when Harry starts to speak. “Just… I’m going home. You go up to your hotel room and I’ll go home and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

Harry looks suspicious, but he agrees, and starts to turn away.

“Wait.” Louis leans his skateboard against the corner of the building. He steps closer, crowding Harry against the wall, and leans in close to whisper, “Kiss me.”

Harry’s hands come up behind Louis’ back and pull him tight against his chest, his breath leaves him in a huff and Harry licks his lips and tips his face down. Louis nudges Harry’s nose and tilts his head, pressing their lips together. When he opens his mouth, Harry follows suit, and Louis loses track of time while they kiss. Minutes, hours, or days later, Louis pulls back and reaches up to trace Harry’s bottom lip with his thumb. 

“Sweet dreams,” Louis murmurs and kisses Harry’s cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

«»

The morning of day eight, Louis wakes up in the best mood since the first time that V slept straight through and didn’t keep them all awake on and off all night. He smiles over his coffee, on his walk down to the beach, when Amelia finishes her heat, while he collects seashells with V, and especially when he sees Harry waving from his spot on the Jet Ski. 

He’s still smiling when he paddles out that afternoon, even though it’s an unpredictable day in the water. The sky clouds over around noon, and the wind keeps changing, causing a mixed bag of waves from massive foamy barrels, to impossible to ride surges that don’t break until they’re almost to shore. Louis gets lucky. His first wave is in between the two extremes, and he catches it easily, barely riding the tube, silently thankful for his small stature. Bressie’s head wouldn’t have fit inside the wave. Louis laughs at the end of his wave and paddles back out for a second go. The second wave is smaller, but he manages to score well enough that he’s not too worried about advancing. 

There are a few heats between Louis’ and Liam’s, and by the time Liam takes to the water the big waves are bigger and the small ones are ridiculous and not worth bothering with. Amelia and Louis watch from the sand, as close as they can get, V strapped to Louis’ back so that Amelia is free to jump up and down and scream as much as she wants. 

Liam’s first wave is shit. He pops up fine, but as soon as he drops down the face of the wave, he wobbles, overcorrects, and ends up with a fairly low score. While waiting for a second, better wave, the smaller waves start coming more often, and Liam is running out of time. As soon as the water swells into a bigger wave, he starts paddling, putting everything into his last chance to score some points. Somehow he gets ahead of it and the wave crests and it’s the biggest one they’ve seen all day. The rogue wave roars and crashes over Liam, pulling him under and tossing his board up in the air. The entire beach goes silent and Louis’ hair stands up on end. He reaches his hand out for Amelia’s and they stand there, gripping each other tightly, waiting for Liam to surface. A movement in the water catches Louis’ eye. It’s Harry turning his Jet Ski and Louis’ heart bangs in his chest with the fear that Harry’s seen something that they can’t see from shore. 

Liam’s board settles fins up, and just as Harry starts towards it, Liam bobs to the surface, shaking the water from his hair and raising a hand up to signal that he’s alright. The beach erupts in applause, and the crowd’s relief is palpable as he flips his board over and paddles in on his stomach. He’s out of time, and out of the Open with a score of zero on his second wave. Louis squeezes Amelia’s hand and lets her go so she can run to Liam when he stands up and carries his board out of the water.

Louis bounces on the balls of his feet, making V giggle on his back, and getting some of the nervous energy out of his system. With their arms around each other’s waists, Amelia and Liam join Louis back on the sand, and while Amelia frees V from the carrier on Louis’ back, Louis takes a look at the scrape on Liam’s shoulder. It looks like road rash and Louis’ face contorts in concern and disgust at the amount of sand embedded in his skin. Louis tips his head toward the first aid tent and they walk over to get the wound cleaned up and bandaged.

«»

“Hey, was Liam alright?” Harry asks, knocking his shoulder into Louis’ as they walk towards the beach. 

The wind gusts and Louis crosses his arms over his chest, hiding his hands, and wishing he’d thought to bring his hoodie. At least he’s wearing jeans. “He’s fine. A little banged up, but nothing major. They decided not to come out tonight though. Think they wanted to be alone. V’s spending the night at Amelia’s mum and dad’s.”

“I’d imagine so.” Harry looks over at Louis’ crossed arms and reaches his arm around behind Louis, settling his hand on Louis’ hip and pulling him closer. “You’re cold.”

“I’m always cold.”

“Good to know. I’m always warm, so…” 

They join the crowd near the stage. It’s pretty packed considering it’s still early evening, so they stand in the back and bounce around to the music of the opening band. When they finish up and leave the stage, Louis has worked up a sweat and feels happy and warm all over.

Steve Aoki takes the stage and everyone goes wild. 

It’s loud and packed and Louis and Harry jump and dance and try to sing along, but conversation is impossible, and that’s kind of what Louis wants. When they take a break to find some water, he pulls Harry further away from the stage instead of back toward it. The sun is finally starting to set, so they walk to the edge of the ocean and turn back, standing side by side, to watch the shifting colors of the sky above the trees and hotels that line the beach. 

“You can still hear the music from here.”

“Yep.” Louis leans his body against Harry’s arm until Harry lifts it and wraps it around Louis’ shoulders. “Except I can hear you too.”

“Why would you want to hear me?”

Louis rests his head against Harry’s shoulder and slowly spins around until they’re standing closer. Louis’ forehead on Harry’s collarbone, their stomachs brushing against each other with every inhale. Harry brings his other arm around Louis’ back and pulls him closer, leans down and whispers, “What’s up?”

“What are we doing?” Louis murmurs against Harry’s t-shirt, his lips catching the fabric as they move.

Harry hums and says, “We were watching the sunset and listening to music, but now I’m not so sure. What are we doing?”

Louis tips his head back and watches Harry’s face for a second. “I mean me and you. I…”

“I knew what you meant. Was just giving you a hard time.” Harry grins and dips down to kiss Louis’ cheek. “What do you want to be doing?”

“Way to pass the buck there, Harold.” Louis rolls his eyes. “I want to be doing you. How about that?”

“You’re awful. That was awful.” Harry presses a kiss to Louis’ other cheek. “Okay, so I’ll tell you what I’d like to happen in my near future and you tell me what you want to happen in your near future, and we’ll see what matches up.”

Louis squints one eye and peers at Harry out of the other. “Okay. Go.”

“Well, I’d like to spend as much of my free time while I’m in Australia with you as possible. Um, I’d like to find out when you’re flying to Tahiti, so maybe we can fly out together. And I’d like to spend as much time with you in Tahiti as I can too. That takes me through like, the twenty-first or twenty-second of March, since I’m planning to stay for that equinox party. As far as I know, my next assignment after that isn’t until mid-April when I go to Indonesia. So I was thinking of going home for a few weeks. You know, I miss my mum a bit. After that, I don’t know.” Harry shrugs and nudges his nose against Louis’ forehead. “Okay, you go.”

“The Krui Pro?”

“Yeah. Are you—”

“Yeah.”

Harry hums and tightens his hold around Louis. “Hey, so, do you know what’s cool about being on assignment at these comps?”

Louis shakes his head and looks up.

“I usually have a decent hotel.” 

“That’s nice.” Louis purses his lips and scrunches his nose. “I’ll probably end up sharing the same shitty hostel room with at least three other guys.”

Harry rolls his eyes, bumps his hips against Louis’, and grins. “I’m offering to share.”

“Are you really?”

Harry nods and says, “Come on. It’s your turn.”

“I like everything you said. I want to spend time with you here and in Tahiti, especially if you’re offering a fancy hotel.” Louis winks and pinches Harry’s hip. “We have similar plans. I’m going home to Donny to visit my family after Tahiti. Then Indonesia. I can’t remember what’s after that. Portugal, maybe?”

“Your family’s in Doncaster?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Mine’s in Holmes Chapel. Like, what? Two hours away? We could maybe see each other a bit back home.”

Louis looks at him suspiciously. “Are you angling to meet the babies?”

“No.” Harry pauses and bites his bottom lip. “Maybe.”

“We’ll see.” Louis slides his hands up Harry’s back and places a kiss on the side of his neck, and whispers against his skin, “I should go home. Tomorrow’s the big day.” 

Harry nods but he doesn’t move or let go of his hold on Louis’ waist. They stand there a little while longer, leaning against each other, listening to the music and the roar of the ocean. 

«» 

Day nine is the last day of the Australian Open of Surfing. First call for the quarterfinals is at half-eight. The men surf first, with thirty minutes to catch at least two waves, then the women. The water is in excellent shape today and it comes down to who gets the better wave. 

Liam, V, Amelia’s parents, Niall, and Bressie are on shore watching the competition. Harry’s standing in knee deep water with his camera. Scores are close and after two hours, Amelia and Louis both make it to the next round. There’s a short break, and then the men paddle out for the semi-finals.

Louis sits on his board, floating out past the breakers, surveying the ocean behind him. It’s a beautiful day and the water is amazing. The surf is great and he really couldn’t ask for anything better. He watches two of the other guys catch waves within the first few minutes, then he sees one that’s coming just for him. He closes his eyes and feels the water roll underneath him, then he opens his eyes and starts to paddle, the water swells, and he rides it in. It’s not his best score of the competition, but it’s high enough. He turns around and paddles back out, and blows a kiss to Harry on the way. 

It takes a while to find a second wave. Louis just happens to be unluckily positioned and is still waiting after everyone else has already finished. When a suitable wave finally comes, Louis goes for it, and halfway through, he knows it won’t be enough. Still, he gives it his all, and when he drops off of his board in the shallow water, he’s surprisingly okay with the prospect of not advancing. 

When the women’s final round starts, Louis and Liam are both chewing their nails while Amelia waits for a wave. Her first wave is pretty average, she paddles right back out and waits for a second wave. She kicks arse on her last wave, manages a 180 and some air, and scores a perfect ten. 

As soon as her feet hit the sand in the shallow water, she picks up her board, holds it in one hand over her head and runs straight at Liam, screaming at the top of her lungs. She’s always excitable when the waves are good, but this is her first ever perfect ten and Louis just laughs as Liam tries to pick Amelia and her board up and spin them around. 

Harry’s taking pictures the whole time, of course, a celebration like that and a perfect ten in a competition mean that Amelia will probably be big news in the article he’s doing for Surfer Mag. 

Amelia is saying something, yelling really, but Louis can’t hear her over everyone shouting and applauding. Liam’s still spinning them around, his foot gets caught up in her leash and he trips, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a heap. Luckily the board lands beside them and Amelia lands on top of Liam. She pushes herself up until she’s sitting astride his hips and she’s still yelling at him. This time Louis can hear her and his eyes snap up, searching for Harry. There he is. Still taking pictures, snapping away, his mouth wide open because, of course, he’s heard her too at this point. 

Liam’s just lying there in the sand and laughing. All of his proposal plans shot to hell because his girlfriend is screaming, “Let’s get married!” at the top of her lungs in front of the entire crowd.

«»

“Are you bothered that you didn’t make it past the semifinals?” Harry drags the knuckle of his forefinger down the outside of Louis’ arm, causing him to shiver.

Louis shakes his head and turns to look back at Harry while they climb the stairs to the house. “I’m really not. I’ve had too much fun, I guess. It's not like I couldn’t use the money, but apparently I have a free place to stay for the next few months.” 

Harry hums as he follows Louis through the house and into his bedroom. He watches from the doorway while Louis packs his bag. “It's not free.”

“Yeah?” Louis grabs his clean laundry pile and starts cramming it into his bag. “You charging me in sexual favors?”

Harry actually looks shocked for a second, as if Louis would actually think that, but Louis winks at him and Harry’s face relaxes. “The fee is you going sightseeing with me.”

“I’d do that anyway.” Louis looks around the room one more time while he zips up his bag.

“I know.”

«»

“I’ve got sand in the crack of my arse,” Louis says as he dumps his stuff in the corner of Harry’s hotel room and looks around. “Harold, this room is tiny.” He spins completely around and sees the entirety of the space in three seconds. “Is there a bathroom or are we sharing with the rest of the hall?”

“Shut up. It’s nice.” Harry picks up a pillow and throws it at Louis. “It’s small though. Bathroom’s through there.” He points to the door that Louis thought was a closet. “Go ahead and shower first.”

Louis stands with his back to the bathroom door and offers, “Want to join me?” Which he regrets as soon as the words leave his mouth, because they’re not there yet. They haven’t even seen each other naked. And when Harry starts to laugh, Louis’ face flushes hot with embarrassment.

“Sorry. I’m not laughing at… Well, just look, will you?” Harry nods at the bathroom door, so Louis pulls it open and turns to see Harry smiling at him. “Maybe the shower in Tahiti will be big enough for two.”

“There’s hardly enough room in here for me,” Louis calls as he turns on the water and steps into the shower stall, still wearing his board shorts and rashguard. “I have to bend down to wet my hair. Have you been showering on your knees?” 

Louis can hear Harry laughing while he peels his suit off and rinses the sand down the drain. He ducks low to wet his hair and washes as efficiently as he can in what is essentially a miniature shower. Harry’s soap smells like peppermint and it makes Louis’ skin tingle. Once he’s clean, he dries off, hangs his suit over the towel bar, and walks back into the room with just the towel on.

Harry’s eyes flicker from the phone in his hand to Louis standing in front of him and he practically jumps up from where he’s been sitting on the edge of the bed. Louis can still feel Harry watching him as he backs into the bathroom. 

While Harry showers, Louis tries to figure out what he should do. Should he put on pants? Leave the towel wrapped around his waist? Lie down on the bed? Sit? Lounge against the headboard? Dig through his bag for lube and condoms? That last thought leads his brain down a winding road of potential outcomes for the evening. Blow jobs? Hand jobs? Actual fucking? Is Harry versatile? He’s practically frozen with the possibilities, when the bathroom door creaks open and Harry reaches his hand out.

“Lou, that’s my only towel. Hand it here.” 

Louis whips the towel off and passes it to Harry who almost immediately opens the bathroom door the rest of the way, and is standing there completely naked, rubbing the towel over his dripping wet hair. A noise escapes Louis’ throat, something between a squeak and a grunt, and he can’t help but stare at Harry’s dick where it hangs heavily between his legs. All of the other options he'd considered earlier clear away as Louis decides then and there that he’s going to have Harry inside him. He hopes Harry’s on board with the idea.

He’s so caught up in staring at Harry’s naked body that he’s completely forgotten his own lack of clothing until he feels his cock start to fill and he reaches down to touch himself.

There’s no time for awkward staring because Harry’s really only standing about two feet away and he closes the distance in half a second, stepping closer until they’re almost chest to chest, then pushing Louis down onto the small double bed and watching while he scoots himself back toward the pillows. 

Louis can feel himself blushing while Harry stands at the foot of the bed, his eyes raking hungrily over Louis’ body. It’s strange, probably, to be here like this. To just suddenly be completely naked together. And maybe it’s because of the way it happened—stripping off separately in the bathroom, instead of fumbling to get undressed while kissing and rutting against each other, which is pretty much how Louis had expected it to go—but everything with Harry has been a little bit different. 

They’ve known each other for less than a fortnight, but it feels like longer. The minutes Louis spends with Harry don’t pass the way time usually does. It’s not like time slows down or speeds up or distorts when Harry’s near, but it’s as if Louis’ attention focuses so completely on Harry, and every word he says, and every gesture he makes. It’s fascinating. It’s as if his mind takes the time to process each second they’re together, committing it to memory. 

Louis is enraptured. 

As Harry kneels on the edge of the mattress and his leg brushes against Louis’ ankle. Goosebumps appear on Louis’ skin and make the hair on his legs stand up. Harry slowly moves between Louis’ legs and crawls up his body, stopping with his hands on either side of Louis’ waist. Louis watches as a drop of water collects at the end of one of Harry’s curls where it hangs down over his forehead, and it falls onto the center of Louis’ chest. 

Maybe time actually does slow down. 

Harry bends his elbows, slowly lowering his chest and head, and his tongue darts out to lick the bead of water from Louis’ skin. He doesn’t stop there. Slowly, he licks across Louis’ chest to his nipple, kissing it gently, and sucking it into his mouth. Louis’ back arches and he presses himself up, willing Harry to suck harder, to bite down, and when he does, Louis groans and twists his fingers in Harry’s wet hair. 

After a moment, Harry pulls back and lets Louis guide his head up so that he can see Harry’s face. It’s flushed, his eyes are half-closed and his mouth is hanging slightly open, his lips pink and slick with spit. Harry bites his lower lip and watches Louis, his gaze intense but unsure, like he's waiting for something. 

Louis tugs him down. Their open mouths slam together; Louis thinks he tastes blood, and it spurs him on. He sucks Harry’s lip inside his mouth, bites down, then licks it, and pulls him impossibly closer. The shower-damp skin of Harry’s chest slides over Louis’ as he runs his hands down Harry’s back, pressing in and sliding down to grab his arse. When Louis draws his fingers up and lets the tips trail along the center, Harry grinds his hips down, sucks on Louis’ tongue, then pulls away to whisper, “What do you want? Want me to blow you?”

Louis nods and surges up to kiss him again, while he thinks that, yes, he does want Harry to suck him off, but more than that, he wants Harry inside him. Maybe he can have both. 

With Louis’ hands buried in his curls, Harry kisses along Louis’ jaw to his neck where he bites and sucks his way down until he reaches his other nipple. Louis moans shamelessly when Harry clamps down hard and he tightens his grip on Harry’s hair, holding him in place so that he continues working him over just like that. Louis loosens his grip when Harry flicks his tongue against the wet skin and blows cool air over it. He almost doesn’t recognize his own voice when he asks, low and rough, “Will you fuck me?” 

Harry nods and grunts as he sucks and nips at the skin over Louis’ ribs, slowly working his way down, leaving marks all over Louis’ chest and stomach, biting the flesh beside his belly button and finally settling back on his knees between Louis’ legs. “D’you have condoms and stuff in your bag?” 

“Yeah,” Louis pants. “In the front pocket.” He watches Harry as he backs off of the bed and bends down to rifle through Louis’ bag. Louis grins at Harry’s tan line. His body is brown from the sun, but his arse and the skin on his upper thighs is pale. He stands and turns around with lube and a strip of condoms hanging from one hand, and wraps his other hand around his dick, slowly stroking himself, while his eyes travel up and over Louis’ body. 

When his gaze settles on Louis’ face, he licks his lips and climbs back onto the bed, nudging Louis’ legs further apart with his knees. He drops the condoms and lube onto the mattress and crawls back up to kiss Louis again, their wet lips sliding together. Harry’s damp hair brushes Louis’ face and he kisses his way back down, finally touching Louis’ cock.

Harry places a quick kiss on the end of Louis’ dick, then leans down and licks from the base to the tip, and sucks the head into his mouth. And oh, his mouth, his gorgeous mouth. Louis threads his fingers through Harry’s hair and watches his perfect lips move up and down his shaft, then he closes his eyes and sighs. It’s amazing, of course it is, it’s a blow job and it’s Harry, but it’s more than just that. 

Louis’ body melts into the mattress. He’s lying there, Harry’s hot mouth tight around him, licking and sucking, pulling whines and moans from his throat, when he feels a slick finger drag between his arse cheeks and over his rim. Somehow Harry’s mouth had made him forget there was more to come. His body tenses at first, it’s been a while, and he hadn’t really considered it, but it’s been more than a year since the last time he’s been fucked, and he can’t believe it’s been so long since he’s given himself over to pleasure like that. 

A single finger slips inside, he whimpers, and Harry stops and pulls his mouth away, but leaves his finger where it is. “You okay?” He presses a kiss to the inside of Louis’ thigh and waits for a response. 

“Yeah, it’s just been a while. Don’t stop.”

Harry kisses his thigh again, then wraps his hand around Louis’ cock and brings it to his mouth. He goes back to it, sucking harder, tongue working the underside of his dick, making Louis tremble and moan until his body relaxes and Harry’s finger eases the rest of the way in. He slides his finger out and adds more lube, pressing forward slowly, again and again, until, between moans, Louis asks for more. 

It takes time, so much so, that twice Harry has to still his fingers, pull off and grip the base of Louis’ dick to stop him from coming. He’s not sure how long Harry’s been at it—torturing him like this—but now he’s up to three fingers and Louis has his feet planted on the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets, and he’s riding Harry’s hand, his hard cock bouncing against his stomach, because Harry gave up on sucking him a while ago. 

Harry slows the movement of his fingers, then stills completely, and Louis opens his eyes to find Harry watching him intently. His eyes dart between Louis’ face and his cock and his fingers where they’re buried inside him. It seems like maybe they both got a little lost in the moment. 

Louis smiles and bites his lip, a little embarrassed because he knows he’s already lost all composure and that he’s been loud and that maybe the people in the next hotel room might be able to hear. Harry pulls his fingers free and reaches for the condoms, opens one and rolls it on. He leans over Louis and kisses him, all messy tongue and teeth bumping together. He places another kiss on the center of Louis’ chest, then one on each nipple, making Louis giggle breathlessly. 

Harry sits back on his heels and spreads Louis’ thighs apart with his hands, kneeling closer and rubbing the head of his cock against Louis’ rim. “Like this?” He asks, and Louis nods, hitching his legs higher when Harry grabs a pillow to slide underneath him. 

The pressure is so much at first. Harry is big and Louis almost feels like he can’t handle it, but he breathes deeply, exhales, and his body allows the intrusion. It burns and it hurts and he feels so full, his legs are shaking and Harry stills above him, only halfway in. He pulls back until just the head is inside and drizzles more lube over his cock, slowly sliding part of the way back inside. Louis groans and closes his eyes as a slick hand wraps around his dick, firmly stroking it until he’s fully hard again. His body slackens and Harry easily slides the rest of the way in. He’s buried inside Louis’ trembling body and he drops forward, leaning on his elbows, to kiss at the skin under Louis’ jaw. Harry nibbles and licks and kisses and sucks all around Louis’ neck and collarbones, holding completely still until Louis moves his hips and starts to fuck himself onto Harry’s cock. 

“Yeah?” Harry mumbles against his neck.

Louis nods and wraps his legs tight around Harry’s waist as Harry begins to rock into him. And, oh yeah, that’s exactly what he’s been wanting. The stretch and the burn give way to pleasure and he can hardly breathe between the moans and the wordless noises he’s making. Louis slides his hands underneath Harry’s arms and runs them up and down his back, digging his nails in and scratching at his skin. He meets every thrust, bucking wildly beneath Harry, squeezing him with his thighs and propelling him forward with his heels. It’s amazing and amidst it all, Louis tries to keep his eyes on Harry’s face. It’s so captivating—the little frown of concentration, the sweat on his brow and above his lips, the bright pink spots on his cheeks, his teeth biting into his lower lip. Harry’s shoulders tremble as he shifts his body forward and fucks deeper. 

Suddenly Louis is drowning in sensation. The glorious, aching throb in his arse and the relentless onslaught against his spot, the pressure of Harry’s stomach dragging against his trapped cock, the warm breath that Harry exhales against his skin, and the sting of every bite and bruise as Harry marks him. 

It’s hard and it’s fast and it’s rough and it’s everything Louis craves after almost two weeks of kisses and incredible sexual tension. He’s going to be sore in the morning, but at least he doesn’t have to get on his board if he doesn’t want to. He can spend all day in bed and maybe, hopefully, do this again.

Harry drives forward, harder and impossibly deep, the force of it punching the air out of Louis’ lungs. He knows he’s being loud, grunting and practically shouting Harry’s name, but he can’t care. He’s so close, he just needs a little more. 

Harry stops sucking on Louis’ neck, pushes himself up and off of Louis’ chest, back onto his heels, slides his hands through the sweat on the back of Louis’ legs, and holds him open. Louis is practically bent in half and he’s so fucking glad that he does stretches every morning. He reaches one hand behind his head and uses the wall for leverage, then grabs his dick with his other hand, fucking his fist while Harry fucks his arse. 

They’re both close, his orgasm is right there, he can feel it’s approach, and he closes his eyes like he does when he’s waiting for a wave he knows is coming. Harry is steadily thrusting into him, his hands gripping Louis’ thighs so tight, until he’s sure he’ll have bruises there as well, and when Louis’ orgasm finally hits, Harry pauses and growls, then speeds up, like he’s trying to come at the same time. 

Louis rides the wave as it rises, crests, and falls. His release drips over his knuckles and onto his stomach, his body tensing and relaxing again and again. When the head of Harry’s cock slides across his spot there’s one last dribble of come. He trembles and chokes out Harry’s name. Harry jerks forward and loses his rhythm, stills, then fucks Louis slow and deep as he fills the condom. 

They’re both covered in sweat and sticky as if they didn’t just shower when they arrived in the hotel room. Louis lays there panting. His legs slide off of Harry’s back and fall open to the sides, as Harry carefully pulls out. He walks the two steps to the bathroom and disappears behind the door.

Before Louis can catch his breath, Harry is back with a warm, wet flannel. He cleans Louis’ belly and hands, then gently wipes the come from his sensitive cock, and the lube from his arse, before tossing the cloth away, climbing back between Louis’ legs and settling on top of him. 

“Hi.” He dips down and kisses the shell of Louis’ ear.

“Hi.” Louis sighs and drags his hands over Harry’s shoulders. “I’m hungry for pizza.”

Harry chokes on a laugh and buries his head against Louis’ neck as he continues to giggle.

“What?” Louis shrugs his shoulder and knocks it against Harry’s head.

After pressing a quick kiss to Louis’ neck, Harry pushes himself up and rests on his elbows, hovering above Louis’ face. “Do you, um,” he blinks slowly and chews on his top lip. “Do you usually bottom?”

“I thought you were going to ask me what I wanted on my pizza.” Louis chuckles and digs his fingers into Harry’s armpit, causing him to roll off to one side in a fit of laughter. “No, not always. I like both. Why?”

“Oh. That works out well. I like bacon and jalapeños on my pizza.”

Louis tilts his head and looks at him, rolling his eyes. “And?”

“And I usually prefer to bottom, but I like both.” He leans over and kisses Louis’ shoulder. “We’re a good match. Unless you like pineapple on your pizza.” 

Louis shakes his head and rolls onto his side to face Harry. “That’s disgusting. Now, feed me. And I want a lemonade.”

Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table and grabs the hotel information booklet. While he’s flipping through to find a pizza delivery number, he says, “Just so you know, I’m not this demanding when I bottom.”

Later that night, when the pizza is gone and they’re cuddled under the blanket watching _The Hobbit_ on Harry’s laptop, Harry hits pause, moves his laptop to the end of the bed, and sits up straighter. He clears his throat and Louis turns to look at him. It’s obvious that he’s working himself up to say something, so Louis just waits and gently pats his knee.

“Louis?”

“Mmhmm?”

“I, um, well… Would it be alright… I mean, I’d really like it if…” and he stops there and closes his eyes. 

Louis waits for a moment and when Harry doesn’t continue, he reaches up to brush a curl off his forehead, trails his fingers down his jaw to his chin, and rubs his thumb over Harry’s bottom lip. “You’d really like it if what?”

Harry doesn’t open his eyes, but he kisses Louis’ thumb and says, “Um, if like, we could be… I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of you sleeping with other people.”

“Oh.” Louis smiles, but Harry’s eyes are still shut tight, so he pokes him in the nose. “Look at me.” When Harry eventually obeys, it’s plain that he’s nervous, chewing his lip and looking everywhere except Louis’ eyes. “I feel that way about you too.”

His eyes finally meet Louis’ and his grin takes over his face. “Yeah? How about…” He looks nervous again, but he quickly finishes his thought, “Can I call you my boyfriend?”

Louis nods, but can’t say anything because Harry tackles him to the bed, holding his head in both hands, kissing him all over his face, and almost kicking his laptop onto the floor.

«»

“I can’t believe this shit. Look at it.” Amelia complains and points to her left breast.

Louis takes V from Amelia’s arms, shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m not looking at your… you know.”

“It’s my boob, Louis. Don’t act like you’ve never seen it before. Besides it’s covered by my dress and...banana? She fucking spit up on me. Hasn’t done it in more than a month. I thought I was safe.” She straightens the flower crown on her head and sticks her tongue out at him.

“It’s all part of our evil plan to ruin your day. I shook her up earlier.”

Amelia rolls her eyes, pokes him in the ribs, and plants a loud, smacking kiss on V’s cheek, then turns to face Liam. Louis hefts V up higher on his hip—she’s getting too heavy to be carried all the time—and steps to the side. 

Everyone is quiet as the officiant opens the ceremony, but Louis hears the clicking of the camera and turns V so that Harry can get a clear shot of her in her frilly, white, only slightly stained, dress. She looks cleaner than her mum, anyway. 

Harry moves around the sides of the crowd, taking pictures of them, of the bride and groom, of Louis and V, and of the beautiful sunset. Of course, everyone involved in the Australian Open of Surfing who was still in town wanted to come, and Amelia couldn’t say no, especially when they offered to bring food and alcohol, so the beach is quite crowded.

When it’s time, after the first official kiss, and the ceremony is over, Louis passes V to Liam and Amelia so that they can carry her back down the makeshift aisle. There are people standing on either side of them, tossing flowers, blowing kisses, and laughing as V tries to catch the petals. 

The reception is really more of a beach party, with coolers and picnics and music that’s probably too loud. Amelia’s parents take V to their house when her bedtime rolls around, and the party is still going long after Louis and Harry drunkenly wish Amelia and Liam a happy honeymoon and stumble back to the hotel. They have a flight to catch the next day, so they can’t stay out all night. 

«»

Louis checks his surfboard bag at the oversized luggage counter and, like he always does, says a little prayer to the gods of international travel that his boards make it to Tahiti safe and sound. Harry smiles at him indulgently and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I’d be worried if I had to check my camera. Glad I can carry it on.” 

Once they’re settled in their seats, and the flight attendant brings around beverages, they sit back to scroll through Harry’s camera and look at the pictures from the wedding. There are way too many of Louis, and he makes sure that Harry knows the close-ups of his arse in white linen pants are for his eyes only. They’re quietly giggling over a picture of Amelia with her eyes crossed, frowning at the banana stain on her dress, when the woman in the window seat next to Louis starts to snore.

“Finally.” Harry jerks his head toward the woman, then leans in to whisper in Louis’ ear. “Are you in the mile high club?”

“Are you serious? No.” Louis laughs because, of course Harry would say something ridiculous like that.

“Can I wank you in the loo?”

Louis eyes shoot open wide and he whips his head around to check if anyone is listening. “Really?”

Harry nods and mutters, “I'd suck you off, but I don't think there's room. Meet me in two minutes.” Then he kisses Louis’ cheek before he stands up and saunters down the aisle.

There are so many pros to having a boyfriend, things that never occurred to Louis before, even in all of the time he’s spent observing Amelia and Liam. He’s made a mental list that he keeps adding to every time something new comes up. So far it runs the gamut from sharing a single stick of deodorant to having someone there to help him work out a leg cramp to never feeling cold when he sleeps. Sex on an airplane is definitely going on the top of the list.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, I absolutely live for comments and kudos are lovely! ❤️
> 
> [Here's a link](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/post/164146885760/has-the-ocean-lost-its-way-by-fullonlarrie-louis) to the rebloggable Tumblr post for this fic, if you'd like to share it :)
> 
> If you liked it, check out [my other fics](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=word_count&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&user_id=FullOnLarrie).


End file.
